Shadow of a Doubt
by Capella
Summary: SLASH! A crossover between Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Centered around Harry, Ron, and Legolas, and what happens one Christmas to send Harry into Middle Earth and the arms of an elf. Finished, but undergoing heavy rewrites. CH. 1 REDONE: 129
1. Fly Away

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter One: Fly Away  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: YES!! Renovation! This chapter is OFFICIALLY re-done as of 1/29. Enjoy. I am so glad that I did this, you've no idea. I hope you like it better.  
  
Oh, and no, you probably don't know what Harry and Ron are fighting about, and you probably won't find out until the sequel, Black Eyes. Sorry.  
  
_________________________  
  
"Then must you speak  
  
Of One that lov'd not wisely but too well."  
  
-- Shakespeare, "Othello" (V, ii)  
  
_________________________  
  
Harry snuggled even deeper into the warm, fuzzy blankets that wrapped him and sighed contentedly. He breathed slowly into his pillow, ready to go back into sleep, when suddenly something landed on his stomach. It felt like a body.  
  
"Harry! Wake up! It's Christmas!"   
  
Wheezing, Harry looked up through bleary eyes at the red-headed blur on his bed. "Bloody hell, Ron. What time is it?" he whispered tiredly, shifting slightly under the heavy weight on his stomach. He couldn't help but smile when Ron pressed a kiss to his lips. He pushed on Ron's shoulders gently when Ron lingered, and Ron pulled away reluctantly, still beaming down at him like seven o'clock in the morning was God's gift to mankind.  
  
"It's already past six and you've got a huge pile of presents waiting to be unwrapped. Now wake up before I wake you up myself." Harry could almost hear the grin in Ron's voice.   
  
Ron rolled off and Harry sighed, already missing his warmth. Pulling on a pair of jeans and his glasses, and sticking his wand in his pocket, he padded over to the end of his bed. A pile of presents sat at the end of it; all but one he could easily guess who they were from. He sat down on the end of his bed and Ron managed to squeeze in next to him, wrapping an arm about his waist and placing a gentle kiss on the side of his neck.   
  
"Where is Seamus?" he asked absently, picking up the first present, more absorbed in the feel of Ron's lips on his skin than what was inside the wrapping.   
  
"I kicked them out a half hour ago," Ron said, and smiled against Harry's neck. "I told them we needed privacy. Are you going to open that, or what?"  
  
Harry shrugged and tore off the brown paper that smelled both pleasantly like a pine tree forest, and a bit unpleasantly like slug repellent. He took out a small wooden carving of a dragon. A note fluttered onto the floor, and Harry picked it up and read: "Norbert came to visit. Wants to see ya right away, he says. Come down to the cabin later with Ron and Hermione. -Hagrid." Harry grinned, and Ron peered over his shoulder.   
  
"C'mon, Harry, open your next one. That one, it's from Hermione."  
  
The one from Hermione turned out to be a rather large package that was wrapped precisely and with almost no tape at all. He took out a mug of butter beer, which he noted was good cold, and predictably, a book.   
  
"Hope you have a good holiday - I'm sure you'll love the present. Don't forget to do your homework! Love, Hermione"  
  
Resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands, Harry unwrapped all the rest of his presents but two. He received five boxes of Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, another broomstick care kit -- obviously Sirius had noticed that he'd lost his old one -- a new cage for Hedwig, and another sweater from Mrs. Weasley. He grinned when Ron groaned.  
  
"I thought she'd forgot this year!" Ron eyed his lumpy present from his mother nervously.  
  
It was as he was reaching for his last present that he noticed the small object next to the piles of wrapping paper on the floor. Curious, he reached down and picked it up, nearly dropping it when he found that the glass it was made of was as slick as if it were wet.   
  
It was a tiny, clear ball. Harry shrugged and was about to set it aside, figuring that it was maybe a Remembrall, but suddenly it grew icy cold in his hands. He held it up to his face. He could see glimpses of -- things in it.   
  
A mirage of images was trapped in that glass, and Harry was certain it was nothing in the wizard or muggle world had ever seen. There were too many images to pick apart, but the ones that stuck were a thick gold ring and a small person with bright blue eyes and curly hair; it looked like a little child. Harry gasped as the images disappeared suddenly.  
  
He slipped it into his pants pocket, resolving to work out the thing later, and picked up the last present, which fit into his palm. It was from Ron.   
  
Ron was near bouncing with excitement from beside him, nibbling on Harry's ear in the way he did when he got especially nervous and wanted to be distracted. Harry slowly peeled off the wrapping, pausing for a moment when he saw the dark velvet of a jewler's box underneath.  
  
Harry opened the box and gritted his teeth when he saw the glittering gold band inside and the note that simply said, "I love you. Please, marry me."  
  
"Well?" Ron said, his eyes glittering with excitement. His arm around Harry's waist tightened convulsively. "It's our seventh year, and I just thought -- I mean, I know you want to be an Auror, so we could get a flat somewhere in London after school is out, I've saved up a little money and Mum promised to help me out, you know she loves you and --"  
  
"Ron." Harry couldn't seem to work himself up to looking into Ron's eyes. "I don't --"  
  
"What?" Ron asked nervously. "What?"  
  
"I can't, Ron. I mean, I hope I didn't...give you false hopes. I just can't. Not so soon after -- what happened." The arm around his waist was gone lightning-quick and Ron was on his feet, standing in front of the bed and looking down at Harry with a thunderous expression.  
  
"It's him, isn't it?" Ron hissed venomously, and Harry didn't have to ask who he meant. "That rat bastard. I thought you got over him by now -- I mean, I assumed you had, but you've always had something for him, haven't you?"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Ron, I don't think you understand."  
  
"I don't understand?" Ron laughed incredulously, running his hands through his hair. "I can't believe you still care for that -- that murderer."  
  
"He -- he didn't kill anyone." His voice sounded defensive, even in his own ears.   
  
"He did, and it was your fault," Ron growled, stabbing a finger at Harry. "You even gave him the password to our dorm, so you two could fuck. God, and you didn't even tell me. And Dean died because of it."  
  
Harry sighed. It wasn't as if they'd never had this conversation a hundred times before, and the outcome was always the same. But he wouldn't apologize this time for something he did not do.  
  
"Fine," he said, suddenly exhausted. "Fine. I'm leaving. Have a nice Christmas, Ron."  
  
The ring and note went into his pocket as well as Harry got to his feet. He walked out the door of their dormitory and out into the halls, ignoring Ron's calls. He had to get away to think. He headed towards the dungeons almost automatically, his safe haven until not that long ago, and he had to force himself to turn around. God, he couldn't run into Draco now.  
  
Wishing he had the Marauder's Map at that moment, Harry ran deeper into the Hogwarts castle, down many halls and passages until even he didn't know where he was. Ducking into an empty space in the wall that looked to have held a statue at sometime, Harry sat down in the hall and sighed.  
  
His hands clenched into fists until his knuckles went white. Harry was reaching into his pocket to get the ring again when the glass ball fell out onto the floor. It glowed faintly green, almost mesmerizing. He stared into the light, fascinated despite himself.  
  
"What are you?" he whispered, rubbing his thumb up against the side of the glass.  
  
In a burst of green and gold light, Harry was gone and all that was left was a broken glass orb, laying shattered on the floor.   
  
________________________ 


	2. Another World

Shadow of a Doubt   
  
Chapter Two: Another World  
  
by Capella no Da  
  
A/N: 12/31/02: Again, here's another redone chapter. Thank goodness. Because honestly, Legolas just is not very Legolas-ish in my first few chapters.   
  
But I'm fixing all that. Yes! :D   
  
______________________  
  
"Hope dies and you wander  
  
The other world it makes you  
  
Dreams they rip asunder  
  
The other world it hates you  
  
Free now ride up on it  
  
Up to the heights it takes you  
  
Go on if you want it  
  
Another world awaits you. "  
  
-- From Final Fantasy X   
  
______________________  
  
Legolas lowered his head, feeling the wind rush by him and his long blonde hair whip around. The steady footfalls of his mare galloping were soothing to him after a long discussion in Rivendell, the Council no closer to a decision then they had been that morning. He was rather worried about Saruman and the news Gandalf had brought.  
  
Legolas pulled back on the reins, smiling to himself when he realized that he had reached the beautiful stream that ran through Rivendell. Legolas climbed off of his mare and patted her head.   
  
All of a sudden, a mighty crash was heard from somewhere to his right. Narrowing his eyes, Legolas grabbed his bow and strung up an arrow, crouching low to the ground. He moved like cat, silent, to the direction of the sound.  
  
For a moment nothing showed, but the a figure slowly emerged from the bushes. Legolas's expression never changed and he didn't lower his arrow. Spies were everywhere. Just...none that looked quite like this.  
  
The boy had messy black hair that had quite a few green leaves stuck in it. and pale skin that was cut off only by the strange pants he was wearing. The figure reached up to his face to remove a pair of glasses that looked hopelessly mangled. He looked to be around eighteen. Sighing, the boy started to move forward.  
  
"Stop where you are if you do not want to be shot where you stand."   
  
The stranger raised his eyes to Legolas's and the elf sucked in a breath, startled by the dazzling green color. "Where...am I?" the boy said, looking around at the trees with puzzlement. "I don't remember..." He started to turn and run but again, Legolas's voice stopped him.  
  
"Stay where you are. I wish to look at you." The boy shifted his weight and narrowed his eyes, obviously getting ready to defend himself. He followed Legolas's actions with obvious distrust.  
  
Legolas slid forward, silent on the forest floor, and circled the boy. He didn't look dangerous, exactly. Just angry.   
  
"What's your name?" Legolas said. The boy looked slightly suspicious.  
  
"Harry. Harry Potter." It appeared that was all the boy, Harry, would give him.  
  
"I cannot let you leave until we find out whether you are a threat or not. You must come with me to the Council, and there they will decide whether to let you go."  
  
Harry sighed, nodding to show his consent.  
  
Legolas noticed something sticking out of Harry's pants pocket. "What is that?" he asked, pointing. Harry's eyes widened and there was a long pause. Legolas could see him thinking.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said, while at the same time his fingers curled into fists. Legolas was sure it was something but he decided to let Gandalf handle it.  
  
"Save your explanations for the Council," Legolas said, and grabbed Harry by the waist, hosting him up onto the mare. Harry looked a little affronted.   
  
"Why are you treating me like this?" Harry demanded. Legolas looked at him, suprised. Didn't he know there was a war going on?  
  
Legolas swung himself up onto the horse and grabbed the reins. "You'll find out soon enough."  
  
_______________________  
  
  
  
Not even an hour later, the entire Council was assembled in a circle, all intently focusing on one thing.  
  
That thing happened to be Harry. He was currently clutching a dark wooden stick in his hand in a death grip, knuckles turning white. Legolas couldn't quite blame him; the Council was about to question him. Thoroughly.  
  
An old man in a gray cloak stood up. A wizard himself, Gandalf fixed his eyes on the young man with the intensity that had faced many an enemy down. But right now they held a hint of kindness.  
  
"Explain to us in detail who exactly you are, and how you came to be here."  
  
Harry looked offended again. And a touch angry. "My name is Harry Potter. I'm a wizard at the Hogwarts School of Witches in London, England. I'm in my seventh and graduating year of training, and I am eighteen years old." Legolas saw a muscle in Harry's jaw twitch once, the only sign of his nervousness. "On Christmas, I received this little glass ball and when I looked in it, it had a whole bunch of things swirling around. I had a. personal conflict, and ran and got lost. When I held the glass ball, I blacked out and when I woke up, I was in the forest."   
  
...what was Christmas?  
  
Murmurings circled the room. Gandalf silenced them with a wave of his hand. "You are a wizard, young one?" he asked, bushy brows lowering over his eyes. "Would you mind showing us your powers?"   
  
Harry stood up again, raising his wand slightly. "What would you have me do?" he asked, and unconsciously searched out Legolas with his eyes. Legolas nodded in return.  
  
Gandalf looked suprised. "Anything you wish."  
  
Harry, for some reason, smiled. For some reason, he muttered something that sounded like "thank you, transfiguations" and waved his wand.  
  
A gasp went around the circle. There was a deer, standing in the middle of everyone where Harry had been. Legolas blinked, but otherwise he forced his expression to be calm. In a flash of light, the deer was gone and Harry was standing there, looking slightly breathless and harried.  
  
"Don't be too quick to judge on age alone," Harry said, a little bit of fire dancing in his eyes. Maybe it was from the red and black sparks jumping from the end of his wand. Legolas realized that he'd thought Harry harmless and decided to take the boy more seriously.   
  
Gandalf narrowed his eyes. "Wizard, indeed," Legolas heard him mutter. "But for the Light?"  
  
Legolas looked wondrously at Harry, messy hair nearly covering his eyes, standing in the middle of the circle. A dark wizard?   
  
"Wait," Legolas said calmly, stepping into the circle. He was immediatly pinned with the eyes of everyone on the council. "He can help us, Gandalf, Elrond. He could help us fight the Dark Lord."  
  
"Can you do this, wizard?" Gandalf asked. "Would you give us your aid?"  
  
Legolas heard the boy sigh in impatience. "Well, there's someone in my world that we call Voldemort...."  
  
________________________  
  
A/N: *wince* painful, painful. But it's fixed now. :) 


	3. Yesterday

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter 3 - Yesterday  
  
by Capella no da  
  
A/N: 12/31/02: Well, another redone chapter-time. Ick ick ick. This might have been my least favorite, especially since I had made Boromir such a jerk. *pets Boromir* Sorry!  
  
*pulls out fic Band-aids and neosporin*  
  
Fixin' time!  
  
_______________________________  
  
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away  
  
Now it looks as though they're here to stay  
  
Oh, I believe in yesterday  
  
Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be  
  
There's a shadow hanging over me.  
  
Oh, I yesterday came suddenly."  
  
- The Beatles, ''Yesterday"  
  
_______________________________  
  
"...and since the death of my friend Cedric we haven't seen Voldemort since."  
  
Harry finished his tale with a sense of emptiness inside of him. It took so much out of him to tell that entire thing, and for some reason, Gandalf's eyes prodded him on when he would have stopped. He had even told them about the Mirror of Erised and what he had seen in it, and no one knew about that but Ron and Hermione.  
  
He had just told his life story to a circle of complete strangers who probably wanted to kill him. He hoped he hadn't said anything suspicious.  
  
A tall man with hair to his shoulders stepped forward. He had an air of nobility and pride, but it was obvious to Harry that he had an easy smile. He wasn't smiling now.  
  
"I do not know if we can trust him," the man said, not exactly unkindly but suspiciously. "He's just a boy, and a stranger to Middle-earth. Even if he is trustworthy, we cannot possibly send him to be slaughtered by Sauron."  
  
"Peace, Boromir. It is not yet your time to speak," the tall elf, Elrond, said sternly. "The Council will hear everyone in time. But first, we would like Legolas to say what he thinks. Harry, you may take a seat if you wish."   
  
The elf didn't even look suprised. "I would not want to intrude on matters of the Council," he said, "and I have told you what I believe. I trust him."   
  
Gandalf let out a sigh in a huge "whoosh" of air. "We should ask the Ringbearer about this. What does the Council think?"  
  
One by one, each creature nodded. Harry counted at least ten elves, three dwarves, but only one wizard. Harry wondered why there weren't as many as wizards and he resolved to ask later.  
  
And who was Sauron?  
  
"Gandalf!" A small voice came from the passage leading to the clearing. "What's this all about? Merry and I were just having a wonderful supper."  
  
"I think it was our dinner, Pip."  
  
Harry turned around and couldn't help but stare in wonder. Four children-like figures were walking out to the middle of the Council ring. They were slightly plump and had very furry heads and feet. One of them looked up at Harry with bright blue eyes. Harry had the distinct feeling that he'd seen the child somewhere before.  
  
Legolas smiled slightly. Harry got the impression that 'slightly' described just about all of Legolas's expressions.  
  
"Hobbits," he explained to Harry softly, "or Halflings, as we like to call them. Very smart little creatures. That one's Frodo Baggins, Sam Gamgee, Peregrin Took, though we all call him Pippin, and Merry Brandybuck."   
  
"I -- I've seen you before!" Harry blurted, then fervently wished he'd kept his mouth shut when all those knowing eyes rested on him. He swallowed.  
  
"In that glass ball there were so many things, I couldn't remember them all, but a few stood out. I saw a child -- excuse me, a Hobbit -- and thick gold ring." A gasp went around the Council. The hobbits, save one, were oblivious to it all.  
  
The one that Legolas had called Pippin stuck out a hand up to Harry and a bright smile split his face. "I'm Peregrin Took, or Pippin, or even just Pip, if you'd like. Who are you?"  
  
Harry looked, suprised, at Legolas and then back at Pippin. "I'm a wizard. And you can just call me Harry." He shook Pippin's hand but the hobbit had seemingly forgotten it in his awe. In fact, all of the hobbits had turned around to stare at Harry.  
  
"Pippin!"  
  
"Oh, sorry," Pippin said with a grin, and released Harry's hand.  
  
"Frodo," Gandalf said, a smile on his face. "We need your council on something."  
  
Frodo looked puzzled. "On what?"  
  
"Not on what, but on who." He pointed to Harry.  
  
"Are you really a wizard?" Frodo asked curiously, his unnerving, blue eyes fixed on Harry's face intently. Harry nodded.  
  
"I think he's trustworthy," Frodo said softly, still studying Harry. Sam nodded.  
  
"As do I," Merry stated.  
  
"And me, too!" Pippin said with a big grin.   
  
Gandalf sighed heavily. "Before we come to a decision, I would like Aragorn to speak his mind." He tapped his wand against the dirt floor.  
  
Harry saw a tall man step forward, with brown hair and proud eyes, and a scabbard hanging from his worn belt. He was so, so familiar...  
  
"I know you!" Harry didn't even notice when everyone's attention went to him again. "I saw you in my glass ball! You were sitting on a gold throne with a crown on your head, and two hobbits were standing with you. You were sitting next to a pretty elf with stars in her hair." For some reason, Elrond looked sad at that.   
  
"Wait!" Pippin cried in dismay. "Can we break for supper first? You interrupted my first one so now I fear that I will faint before I can hear all of your story." Merry elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
"Of course!" Gandalf smiled. "We had forgotten about you, Master Took. We must fill up that stomach of yours before you die of hunger."   
  
"Meet in after supper!" Gandalf called after the leaving creatures. "That means you too, Master Pippin!"  
  
Unnoticed, Harry slipped off to the side and into the woods. He went to one side so that he could keep an eye on Legolas as the elf made his way to where Harry stood.  
  
To Harry's eternal suprise, when Legolas reached him, the elf grasped Harry's shoulders lightly. "Legolas, what are you?..." he started, but was silenced by Legolas's finger on his lips.   
  
Legolas didn't say a word, his face impossibly close. Harry leaned up slowly, and was about to meet the elf's lips when he thought of his red haired lover back at home, worrying about him. He pulled away quickly and answered the question in Legolas's eyes.  
  
"I can't, Legolas. I'm sorry, but there's someone at home who's waiting for me and I was going to tell them that we should stop seeing each other but I never got the chance to and..."  
  
"Harry."  
  
Harry glanced up.  
  
"Be quiet."  
  
And Legolas kissed him.  
  
___________________________  
  
A/N: well that about does it. Hope it sounds better, at least. 


	4. Blackbird

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Four: Blackbird  
  
by Capella   
  
A/N: 12/31/02: Redone. Thank god. So, enjoy! Not really much to say, besides that I love the Beatles! *hugs Paul* Sorry if half my lyrics are from the Beatles. I'm a horrible groupie.  
  
...damn, my first few chapters of this story are short!  
  
___________________________  
  
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
  
All your life  
  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.  
  
Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
  
All your life  
  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free."  
  
-Beatles, "Blackbird"  
  
___________________________  
  
"I do not really trust him, Gandalf. Something just does not feel right."  
  
Sam could feel Gandalf's eyes slide slowly over to the man seated at the wizard's right.   
  
The Council and the hobbits sat in the main dining hall, not quite as full and festive as it had been the day when Frodo woke. Sam shuddered to think of those three nights, when his beloved master had been so deathly cold. Sam looked up quickly to Elrond, guiltily wondering if the magnifient elf had felt him shudder. But Elrond's mind was preoccupied, his eyes staring at the empty two chairs at the table. Sam's brows puckered in thought.   
  
His attention was soon drawn to the heated conversation that was going on across the table from him.   
  
Gandalf looked faintly amused. "I thought he was just a boy. Why are you so frightened?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Boromir sighed. "I just do not think--"   
  
"We shall keep him in Rivendell for one week. During this time we will monitor him closely, see if we can find anything suspicious. If we cannot, it is my belief that he should help Frodo on his quest."   
  
"Help him?" Boromir said, a touch of anger in his voice. Gandalf laid a hand on his arm.  
  
"Peace, Boromir," he murmered. "We have no need to harm him. He has not done anything to harm us."  
  
Sam heaved a sigh of relief. Just then, Frodo leaned over and whispered, in Sam's ear, "I am going to go find Harry. I want to talk with him more closely."  
  
"I'll come with you, Master."   
  
Frodo smiled.  
  
_________________________  
  
"Legolas..." came the whisper from Harry, "what are you doing..." Legolas chose not to respond, instead fastening his mouth onto Harry's bare shoulder, biting down lightly. "I can't do this to Ron, he doesn't know..."  
  
Pulling back abrubtly, Legolas looked into Harry's determined eyes. Harry answered the unspoken question.  
  
"He is...was...my lover. We parted on bad terms, I think. He wanted me to marry him. I couldn't. I can't." He looked up at Legolas a little sadly.  
  
Legolas nodded slowly. He understood -- Harry had been torn from his former life and thrust into a world he didn't even know, but...  
  
"Harry, please. We can work this out." He reached up his hand to smooth back unruly black bangs, and trailed his hand down the curves of Harry's face.   
  
Harry opened his mouth, a pained expression coming onto his face, but Legolas continued on quickly.  
  
"Neither you nor I know how long you'll be here...please, Harry. Indulge me for a little time."  
  
A tear traced it's way down Harry's cheek as he nodded, wordless.  
  
Legolas was surprised. "I did not mean to hurt you, Harry." He took his hand from Harry's cheek.  
  
"No, it's okay --"  
  
"Harry! There you are!"  
  
Legolas leaned back quickly. Looking up at him, Harry saw the emotionless mask back on the elf's face. Harry smiled at Sam and Frodo, who shrugged.  
  
"Harry, we need you back at the Council right away. They're going to reach their decision soon."  
  
_______________________  
  
Hours later, the Council had come to a final conclusion. Harry was to stay in Rivendell until the company was ready to leave. If he was deemed trustworthy, he would accompany the Ringbearer on his journey through Gondor to Mordor and the Crack of Doom.   
  
Boromir, however, worried Harry greatly. He was to accompany them on the journey, but it was obvious that while he didn't exactly dislike Harry, he didn't trust him either. That is, until Harry revealed one of his biggest secrets (that not even Dumbledore knew): Harry had learned how to Apparate when he was fifteen. Boromir grudgingly agreed that having Harry along would be a great help.   
  
Harry just wanted some way to apparate himself home.  
  
_________________________  
  
A/N: Fixed! Albeit short, but fixed! 


	5. Despised Love

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Five - Despised Love  
  
by Capella no da  
  
A/N: WOOHOO! Yay for being redone! I hate the way I made Legolas act. *grinds teeth* I had to take it out. Sorry if ya'll liked it but I couldn't stand it.   
  
Note: Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the Fellowship of the Rings. It was too good not to say. Think of this whole series as a tribute. ^_^  
  
___________________________  
  
"For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,  
  
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,  
  
The pangs of despised love..."  
  
-- William Shakespeare, "Hamlet"  
  
___________________________  
  
It had been five days since Harry arrived in Middle - Earth, and once again, the Council had gathered to pass judgment.   
  
At the moment, Gandalf was standing in the middle of the circle, speaking quietly of the Tale of the Ring and his adventures. Harry was leaning forward and listening intently.  
  
"So it has been for many lives of men, but the Lords of Minas Tirith still fight on, defying our enemies, keeping the passage of the River from Argonath to the Sea. And now that part of the tale that I shall tell is drawn to its close. For in the days of Isildur the Ruling Ring passed out of all knowledge, and the Three were released from its dominion. But now in this later day there are in peril once more, for to our sorrow the One has been found. Others shall speak of its finding, for in that I played small part."  
  
No sooner had Gandalf finished and sat down then Boromir stood up. "Give me leave, Master Elrond, first to say more of Gondor, for verily from the land of Gondor I am come. And it would be well for all to know what passes there. For few, I deem, know of our deeds, and therefore guess little of their peril, if we should fail at last."  
  
Boromir continued in this vein for a while, speaking of Numenor and his father. One part of what Boromir was saying he spoke loudly, in a different voice than he had been.  
  
"Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
  
In Imladris it dwells;  
  
There shall be counsels taken  
  
Stronger than Morgul-spells.  
  
There shall be shown a token,  
  
That doom is near at hand,  
  
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
  
And the Halfling forth shall stand."  
  
After these bold words, Harry lost the track of the story for a while. He stopped paying attention to the words and barely stopped himself from closing his eyes. He heard a few things when Frodo brought out the Ring. Harry stared at it until Gandalf stepped in front of it. He felt a twinge of anger that faded out in a flash. Going out again, he caught the thread of the tale as Gandalf was speaking:   
  
"Upon this very ring which you have here seen heft aloft, round and unadorned, the letters that Isildur reported may still be read, if one has the strength of will to set the golden thing in a fire for a while. That I have done, and this I have read:  
  
Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg  
  
thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!  
  
Harry shrank into his seat at the wizard's voice. It became menacing, powerful, harsh as stone. A shadow seemed to pass over the high sun, and the porch for a moment grew dark. Harry trembled, and he noticed Legolas stop his ears.  
  
"Never before has any voice dared to utter words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey." There wasn't a tremble in Elrond's proud voice but Harry could sense the fear of everyone in the room. The shadow passed.  
  
"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring  
  
to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them."  
  
After this, the Council started again of something that Harry didn't know, of a creature called Gollum. Harry watched as Legolas stepped forward, distressed, and spoke of the creature's escape. The words flowed around the room, Legolas's melodious voice taking Harry's attention off of the dark task at hand. Finally the whole Council became immersed into a heated discussion of what to do with the Ring. Harry watched Frodo from the corner of his eyes, watching as the young hobbit shifted in his seat, obviously wanting to say something.  
  
Finally, there was a stifling silence. A bell rang in the distance but still no one spoke. Finally, Frodo stood up and said, with an obvious amount of effort:  
  
"I shall take the Ring, though I do not know the way."  
  
Elrond looked at the tiny hobbit with wise eyes. "It seems to me that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another, as I do no t lay it on you. Take it freely, and I say your choice is right; and though all the mighty elf-friends of old, Hador, and Hurin, and Turin, and Beren himself were assembled together, you seat should be among them."  
  
"But surely not alone, Master?" Sam cried, jumping up from the corner where he had been sitting.  
  
"No!" said Elrond, smiling. "You, at least, shall go with him. It is not possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Sam sat down blushing.  
  
"But, my friends, who else shall accompany Frodo on this task? For not with a hundred men could he penetrate the force of Mordor, but only with a small company. I will choose your companions to go with you, as far as they will. The Company of the Ring shall be Ten, Nine for the Nine Riders and one for the Dark Lord on his throne. Gandalf shall go, as this is a great task and maybe the end of his labors."  
  
Aragorn stepped forward and knelt at Frodo's feet, his eyes boring into the hobbit's. He held out his mighty sword in both hands. "You have my sword," he said slowly, voice full of with loyalty.  
  
"And my bow," said Legolas, placing a hand on Frodo's shoulder and smiling down.  
  
Gimli glanced over at the elf and glared. Not to be outdone, he growled in a deep voice, "And my axe!"  
  
"Don't forget about us!" shouted a small voice from the door. Merry and Pippin rushed in, Pippin tripping over his own feet in a hurry to stand by Frodo's side. "We want to go with Frodo to Mordor."  
  
"That is because you don't understand and cannot imagine what lies ahead."  
  
"Neither does Frodo," said Gandalf. "Nor do any of us see clearly. I think, Elrond, that in this matter it would be well to trust friendship rather than wisdom."  
  
"You speak gravely, but I am in doubt. In any case, I judge that the younger, Pippin, should remain. My heart is against his going."  
  
"Then Master Elrond, you will have to lock me in prison, or send me home tied in a sack," said Pippin. "for otherwise I will follow the Company."  
  
Elrond sighed. "Let it be so, then. Boromir shall also be in the Company. He is a valiant man." Frodo smiled up at the big man, who grinned back down and clapped a hand on Frodo's shoulder. Harry's opinion of Boromir was shifted, and a new respect grew in him. He resolved to make friends with him.  
  
"That leaves one more to fill in the tale of Ten," said Elrond, looking around the room, his eyes resting on Harry, who until that point had been ignored. "It is my belief that the young wizard, Harry Potter, should be sent with the Company." Harry looked tentatively at Boromir, and was relieved to see him offering a slight smile at Harry.   
  
"Harry?" said Gandalf, looking him straight in the eyes. "Will you take the task of accompanying us on this journey and protecting the Ring-bearer as well as you can?"  
  
Harry stood up, sure that all of the great wizards's legs had never shaken quite as bad as his did. "Yes," he said. "I'll help you, Frodo." He felt awkward and out-of-place with all these noble, mystical people. Nonetheless, he walked forward to stand next to Aragorn at Frodo's side.  
  
"Then the tale of Ten is filled," Elrond said softly. "The Company shall leave in a fortnight. We have already tarried too long; winter will be here soon."  
  
______________________  
  
An hour later found Harry walking quietly next to the icy-cold, clear river. Legolas smiled and walked beside him, quietly, unnoticed. Harry turned and started at the sight of Legolas with a muttered "Make more noise next time!" He hoped he didn't sound as distracted as he felt.  
  
Legolas put a hand on Harry's shoulder, forcing him to stop. "Harry," he said softly, but Harry interrupted.  
  
"Legolas, we can't do this!" Harry erupted, shrugging off Legolas's hand. The elf looked hurt.  
  
"I won't hurt you. Even Gandalf has said that I need to tell you how I felt and I did. So why must you push me away?"  
  
Harry threw his hands up into the air. "You know why, Legolas. I told you about Ron already, and you know that I don't want to do this. Please, Legolas. Leave it at that."  
  
Legolas sighed. "As you wish." Without another word he walked away without a backward glance, leaving Harry staring after him thoughtfully and a little sad.  
  
_______________________  
  
"The time is come for the Company to depart for Moria."   
  
Elrond looked impassively around at the ten creatures gathered in front of the road leading away from Rivendell. "Harry has agreed to...Apparate you to the gates, but not beyond." His voice tripped over the strange words. "I wish the company the best of luck."  
  
Without another word, a flash of light came from the end of Harry's wand, and then the Company was no more.   
  
_______________________  
  
A/N: Not much to do on this chapter except fix the whole fight thing -- the rest of it was alright. :) 


	6. Lift Me Up

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Six: Lift Me Up  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: 12/31/02: Again, this chapter is redone from the original. Dont' worry, I didn't change any major parts of the plot, just a few fixer-uppers. These next few chapters won't be changed all that much.  
  
__________________________  
  
I'm over this   
  
I'm tired of living in the dark   
  
Can anyone see me down here   
  
The feeling's gone   
  
There's nothing left to lift me up   
  
Back into the world I've known  
  
-- Three Doors Down, "Away From The Sun"  
  
_______________________  
  
Harry stared up at the impassive cliff and the two Holly trees nestled under the stone, bigger than any he had ever seen. The stone wall looked rather solid. Weren't there supposed to be caves somewhere around here? Were they going to climb over these huge mountains? He looked over at Gandalf, doubtful.   
  
"Here we are at last!" said Gandalf. "While I am searching for a way into the Mines, ready yourselves for the journey. We must cast off what we do not need, and take only the barest necessities. For this will be a long and perilous journey through the mines, at least three days if we hurry."  
  
Gandalf turned and stared intently at the wall, between the two large trees. Next to him, Legolas pressed his ear against the wall, and the dwarf tapped the stone in some places with his axe.   
  
"Well, here we are and all ready," said Merry. "But where are the Doors? I can't see any sign of them."  
  
"Dwarf-doors are not made to be seen when shut," said Gimli. "They are invisible, and their own masters cannot find them or open them, if their secret is forgotten."  
  
Harry's eyes opened wide. "Is there someone here who remembers the secret to the Doors?" he said, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes.  
  
Gandalf didn't answer. He walked forward to the wall, and passed his hands over a smooth space in the rock, muttering words under his breath.  
  
"Look! Can you see anything now?"   
  
Harry's eyes raked up the wall in question, expecting to see some drastic change. He didn't. "Um, Gandalf-" he started quietly, at the risk of looking idiotic, but Gimli interrupted.  
  
"The Emblems of Durin!" he exclaimed in awe. Harry frowned and leaned forward minutely, searching in the impassive stone face for any clue that didn't come.  
  
"And the Tree of the High Elves!" Legolas reached out a hand and traced something on the wall with an almost shaking hand. Harry blew his bangs out of his face in growing annoyance, as everyone in the company stared at absoluetly nothing. He glared at the rock some more, which was obviously immune to his mental bullets. It didn't change. Staring at it some more, he completely missed the next thing Gandalf said. He caught the thread of words as Gandalf read some strange language off the supposed picture in the stone.  
  
"It says, 'Speak, friend, and enter." Gandalf tapped his staff on the ground a few times and appeared to be lost in thought again. Something snapped in Harry's by-now fragile temper, and he threw his hands up into the air.  
  
"Well? What are you supposed to speak? I don't bloody well want to be here all night!"   
  
Gandalf didn't answer, and only Boromir and Legolas glanced his way. Harry could swear that there was a trace of a grin on Boromir's face, which lightened his spirits considerably. He avoided Legolas's gaze boring into his back. It would have made Harry feel better if there had been even an iota of anger in that stare, but it was empty and cool. Like the damn pond right in front of him. Harry kicked a rock by his foot into the dark pool of water, and he small "plink" echoed lightly. Frodo stiffened.  
  
He cast an imploring gaze to Harry. "Please don't disturb the water." The pool rippled. "I don't like it."   
  
Harry glanced at the pool and jumped when, he could swear, the water ripples changed direction. He scuffled his feet and silently pleaded with Gandalf to hurry. "This water scares me," he muttered, good mood already vanished.   
  
Aragorn looked at him grimly. "If a pond scares you, wizard, I would hate to think what happens when we encounter real danger."  
  
"But..." he started to protest, and quit when it became obvious that it was hopeless. He retreated to his own self-pity, oblivious to Gandalf's mutterings.  
  
A tiny sigh brought him out of his reverie. He looked over at Legolas and was startled to see the elf looking almost sad. Harry remembered how Legolas's arms had made him feel, warm and safe and -- he gave himself a mental slap in the face.   
  
'You ruined that chance,' said an annoyingly correct voice in his head. Harry looked over at Legolas again with softened eyes and was startled to see the elf looking back. He turned his head away and smiled a little to himself.  
  
"I've got it!" Gandalf said loudly, almost causing Harry to stumble and fall in the pool. The wizard picked up his staff and tapped on the stone, saying in a loud, clear voice: "Mellon!"  
  
Nothing happened for a few moments, and when Harry was about to complain, the entire valley rumbled. Slowly, a crack appeared in the wall and started to swing open like a set of huge doors, revealing a darkened passage and descending stairs. The inside was blacker than midnight. Harry didn't like the feel right away.   
  
"I was wrong after all, and Gimli too. Merry, of all people" Merry bristled a little at that, "was on the right track. The opening word was on the archway all the time! The translation should have been: 'Say Friend and Enter.' Quite simple. Too simple for a learned lore master in these suspicious days. Those were happier times." Gandalf sighed. "Now let us be off!"  
  
Pippin and Sam were the first ones to enter the Mines, the curly haired hobbit leaping ahead, oblivious to Aragorn's cautions to wait. Gimli strode in next, a strange gleam in his eyes, followed by Gandalf. As Boromir and Aragorn went in, Harry offered a tiny smile at Legolas and was strangely warmed to receive a shadow of a grin back.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and set his foot on the lowest step. As he did so, the coldest fear gripped his heart, and he felt the cry even before he heard it. He whirled around and green eyes widened at the sight of a monstrous, pale-green tentacle with a death grip on the Frodo. The small hobbit grasped onto thin air as the arm dragged him into the water. Without thinking he ran back to the entrance, barely noticing Sam and Legolas not two steps behind him.  
  
Sam rushed forward in front of Harry and drew his sword, hacking at the hideous arm until the stones around the pool were wet with a hissing, acid blood. The water of the lake rippled and seethed as the tentacle withdrew back into the water. Legolas scooped Frodo up into his arms, as Harry grabbed Sam's hand and forcibly dragged him back to the cave.   
  
"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" shouted Gandalf. He drove them forward, just in the nick of time, for when Sam and Harry were only a few steps up, the tentacles flew forward with a great strength and slammed into the doors, wriggling into the cave. Harry turned and was about to shout a closing spell but it seemed that there was no need. The horrible tentacles grabbed the side of the doors and swung them shut with a resounding crash, sending rocks tumbling to the ground and pitching the room into darkness.  
  
"Well, well!" came Gandalf's voice from somewhere in the darkness. "The passage is blocked, and there is only one way out - through the mines."  
  
"I knew there was something horrible in that water from the moment that it was disturbed," Frodo said, sending a significant glance to Harry. The wizard was about to apologize when Frodo continued. "There's no harm done now - we're in the Mines and that's all that matters right now. But what was that thing?"  
  
"I do not know, but the arms were all guided by one purpose. Something has crept out of dark waters. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world."  
  
Harry breathed a few choice profanities at the same time that Boromir uttered something that Harry missed. He was sure it was because of the blood pounding through his ears, loud enough for nearly every one to hear or so it seemed.   
  
"I really hate caves," he mumbled to no one in particular.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Walking through the caves many hours later, Harry reaffirmed that in his mind vigorously. After trudging what seemed like days through the endless walls of stone, with only a short break to eat, he wished again that he was home. These passages weren't known to him, with stairs and arches, and passages and tunnels sloping up or running steeply down, or opening blankly on either side. He had already begun to hate this place.  
  
Harry looked over at Frodo and fondness grew in his heart. The little hobbit was not nearly as stout as Gimli, or so it seemed, but he had an endless well of courage. He resolved not to complain. For a while.  
  
However, that was before they came to the enormous chasm. It had to be at least seven feet across, and even Boromir was hesitant to make the leap. Below them the noise of churning water came. Harry felt butterflies in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"I hate pits," he mumbled.  
  
The first night had passed with little event. Harry was relieved but a little worried, at the incident at the well, and the strange drum-noises that had happened not long after. They sounded menacing, echoing off the glistening walls and the cold floors. And now to make it even better, they were stuck.  
  
"We are tired, but we shall rest better when we are outside. I think that none of us will wish to spend another night in Moria."  
  
Harry grinned. "I don't think so, Gandalf," he said, "but where do we go now? Which arch do we take?"  
  
"I do not know exactly where we are. Unless I'm quite astray, we are above and to the north of the Great Gates. The eastern arch will probably prove the way that we must take, but before we make up our minds we ought to look about us. Let us go towards that light in the north door. If we could find a window it would help, but I fear that the light comes only down deeps shafts."  
  
Harry trailed behind Aragorn as the Company went under the northern arch. Harry looked around as the walked, noting the strange carvings in the wall. He reached out to touch one and recoiled sharply when he realized the dark red paint on the stone was not paint. The walls seemed to tilt sharply, but when he felt arms on his waist to steady him, he realized he'd almost fainted.   
  
Cheeks turning red, he turned around to thank Boromir but found that it was Legolas behind him instead. His face firmed. He had to say something now. "Legolas-" he began, but was interrupted as they came into a long square chamber.   
  
The dust swirled gently around their feet as they disturbed things that had not moved in years. Harry grimaced as he stubbed his toe on something - he looked down and his eyes widened - or on somebody. Bile raised in the back of his throat.  
  
"It looks like a tomb," murmured Frodo from the middle of the room, and Harry walked over to his side to look at it. It was a single rectangular block, two feet high, made of what seemed to be white marble.   
  
Gandalf leaned over him and read slowly, off the slab, " Balin, son of Fundin. Lord of Moria."  
  
Gimli let out a strange noise and pulled his cloak over his face. "He is dead then," Frodo whispered. "I feared it was so." Harry felt intense sympathy for these creatures he had just met. This Balin was obviously someone important and kind. A strange dread then tightened his stomach. Whoever killed this man - these men, he amended, looking around at the scattered bones and weapons - had to still be here. He voiced the thought aloud.  
  
Aragorn looked amused. Gimli looked insulted.  
  
"Balin was no man, young wizard," said Aragorn, almost teasing. "All these you see here - they are dwarves."  
  
"Like a mere man could do this," Gimli muttered darkly, casting a glance at the tomb. He shuddered and pulled his cloak tighter. Harry looked over at the hobbits, who were huddled in a tight circle, then Gandalf and Legolas, who were pouring over a rotted and faded book. He caught snatches of their conversation, words like 'dimrill,' 'frar,' and 'watcher in the water,' that he didn't understand, and phrases that he could understand that he didn't want to. It sounded dark and ominous.   
  
"Listen," Gandalf said loudly, "I fear their ending was cruel. 'We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frar and Loni and Nali fell there.' Then there are four lines smeared so that I can only read: ' went five days ago.' The last lines run 'the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Oin. We cannot get out. The end comes,' then 'drums, drums in the deep.' I wonder what that means. The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: 'they are coming.' There is nothing more."  
  
Harry felt the same cold fear settle over the room. He barely heard Gimli's words.  
  
"We cannot get out. It was well for us that the pool had sunk a little, and that this Watcher was sleeping down at the southern end."  
  
Frodo shuddered and wrapped his arms around his waist.  
  
"Come! Let us go! The morning is passing." Gandalf tried to rouse the Company out of the depression into which it had fallen. "Which way will we go?" asked Boromir in a quiet tone.  
  
Harry took a step toward the doors and had hardly placed his foot down when a huge, echoing BOOM resounded through the chamber. The skulls and bones began to shiver at the force of the sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The huge drumbeats continued, making Harry clap his hands over his ears. Paralyzed with fear, he could only watch as Aragorn slammed the door firmly shut and barred it. From behind the door came the sounds of harsh and vile words and cries.   
  
"We cannot get out!" Gimli cried. "Trapped!"  
  
Gandalf's eyes widened beneath his hat brim. "Why did I delay? Here we are, caught, just as they were before."  
  
Harry's fine eyebrows lowered thunderously. In a fierce bout of determination, he drew his wand and held it up before him, daring the monsters to break through. Small yellow sparks flew from the end of it. Dimly, through the red fury descended over his vision, he saw the others draw their swords. Frodo's hand trembled and a bright blue light issued from his blade.  
  
Gandalf narrowed his eyes. "There are Orcs, from the sound, many of them. They sound large, black Uruks of Mordor. For the moment they hang back, but there is something else there. A great cave-troll, I think, or more than one. There is no hope of escape that way."  
  
Harry's memory suddenly and vividly flashed back to that night, nearly seven years ago, when he and Ron had defeated the mountain troll. For a moment he thought his heart would burst from aching for his lover. But then a light feathery touch against his shoulderblade brought him back. He looked up into the stormy eyes of Legolas.  
  
"Be careful, little one," the elf murmured and stepped back. In one fluid moment, the elf drew a bow and aimed for the door, drawing the bowstring back tight. A fervent look came to his eyes.   
  
"Let them come," the elf said in a loud voice that rang off the stone like clear water. "We will make them fear the Chamber of Mazarbul!"  
  
_____________________________  
  
*chuckle* I love cliffhangers - especially when I know that something very momentous is going to happen next. And I love angst. Two things which I'm sure pain the readers of this story. :D Makes it all the more fun, eh? 


	7. Spirits of the Dead

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Seven - Spirits of the Dead  
  
by Capella no da  
  
Got the next chapter out, finally...geez....took me long enough.  
  
I've had a few complaints and a few suggestions about Harry and Ron and Legolas...and who all should get together...but I wanted to say that the FINAL idea of who's with who and how, came from the AWESOME Jaela Noble.   
  
I'm such a Poe dork. But his stuff is so beautiful...this poem fit the chapter somehow. *is a geek* Hooray for being morbid!  
  
___________________________  
  
"Thy soul shall find itself alone  
  
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;  
  
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry  
  
Into thine hour of secrecy.  
  
Be silent in that solitude,  
  
    Which is not loneliness- for then  
  
The spirits of the dead, who stood  
  
    In life before thee, are again  
  
In death around thee, and their will  
  
Shall overshadow thee; be still."  
  
-- Edgar Allen Poe, "Spirits of the Dead"  
  
___________________________  
  
Harry trembled. He honestly couldn't help it.  
  
But it wasn't with fear -- he'd faced harder things than trolls, more difficult and desperate creatures than these -- but his hands faintly shook from anger, this time. He couldn't remember a time he'd felt like this, but whatever it was that was making small red sparks fly out of the end of his wand made his eyes glint red also. Merry looked at him, and looked away quickly, a stunned look on his face. Harry couldn't help but smile a little; did they think he'd be a helpless burden forever? He looked at the rest of the company, never taking his attention totally from the door.  
  
The blue iridescent light that issued from Frodo's sword made the angles of Legolas's face stand out, shading his eyes except for a green glint. His face was serene and calm, a lot calmer than Harry felt. The bow and arrow were steady in Legolas's deceivingly delicate white hands.   
  
Suddenly Legolas turned his fierce gaze from the door, eyes resting on Harry for a moment, shining eyes seeming to say everything that he could not. Harry smiled faintly back.  
  
BOOM!  
  
BOOM!  
  
BOOM!  
  
It sounded like something was being thrown against those old doors, which were groaning against the weight. The bolt that Boromir had secured across those door splintered until it seemed that it couldn't take any more.   
  
Harry's eyes narrowed, hands flexing around his wand, more than ready to do harm. Just wait til they come through those doors. Just wait. Wait.  
  
Finally with a decisive crunch and an outcry of barbaric words, the doors swung inward and what seemed like a moving mass of hairy limbs, horned heads and sharp weapons swarmed into and over the Company.  
  
Something whistled by his ear, missing by about a fingerwidth and went right into the head of the thing about to dismember him. He swiveled around in time to catch the next arrow fly out of the shining bow of Legolas. He stepped quickly out of the way --  
  
-- and suddenly a great hairy monster was baring down on him, snarling teeth glinting along with the decidedly wicked curved blade that was about to slash through him. All Harry's abilities seemed to leave him, and the only spell he could remember was that one spell five years ago, at the Dueling Club. He raised his wand up and bellowed "SERPENSORTIA!" at the top of his voice.   
  
For a moment all movement ceased. A small fog gathered above Harry's head. A giant snake that was easily half the length of a classroom dropped in front of the Orc, huge fangs ready.  
  
Knowing that this might mean his death by the rest of the Company, Harry looked straight at the Orc and hissed, "Kill him."  
  
The snake became a blur, moving faster than Harry could see, latching onto the Orc's neck with frightening precision. The Orc shrieked, blackish blood oozing from his neck to pool on the floor in a sputtering puddle. It dropped to the floor with a loud thud, the snake still latched on to its neck. Harry waved his hand and the snake disappeared.  
  
All of a sudden he was glad that the fighting was going on. The only people who had watched him were Aragorn and Pippin. For a moment he met the calculating gaze of Aragorn, who's wise eyes made him shudder a little. He wondered if that snake had not been such a good idea after all.  
  
Then a new wave of monsters swarmed toward him, and time seemed to go in a blur, as much as it was going slow earlier. It was all Harry could do to not get slashed into a thousand pieces, his wand going in a blur and spells flying out of his mouth. He didn't even notice anyone else.  
  
Suddenly Harry felt cold stone behind his back. The two Orcs he had been fighting had backed him into a corner, snarling and lifting their swords to attack, drool dripping from their mouths. Harry lifted his wand, a plan forming in his head that would probably get him killed. He didn't care.   
  
"Frodo!"  
  
Harry's head whipped around to the source of the frantic scream, and his eyes widened when he saw Frodo hanging on the rough wall, pinned by a spear that was going through his side. The little curly haired hobbit struggled for a moment, feet kicking out, before going limp.   
  
"Frodo!" Sam cried out desperately again, voice cracking as he tried to fight his way to his master. A swarm of Orcs that were obviously too much for the hobbit to handle blocked his path.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at the Orcs who were closing in on him, bloody weapons at the ready. It had to work now.  
  
"Crucio," he whispered, pointing his wand at the Orc on his right. When the Orc collapsed, he rushed through the opening it had left him, hoping against hope that the other Orc didn't follow him.  
  
He had made it five feet from the little hobbit when suddenly his leg was on fire. He barely caught the scream that tried to escape his lips as he fell to the stone floor, his leg useless. Landing in a ball on the ground, he looked at the back of his thigh to see a gash slicing down from the top of his leg to his knee. It burned with a passion. He closed his eyes and tried to stay conscious. Oh bloody hell -- Frodo!  
  
Squinting his eyes and barely making out anything besides the dots dancing in his vision, he saw Sam finally reach Frodo and hack away at the shaft that held him pinned to the wall. Frodo tried to get up, gripping his weapon even tighter. Harry hoped the hobbit would be alright.  
  
Harry heard a voice shout something that he couldn't make out and he saw Aragorn run by him without noticing, picking up Frodo in his arms and rushing toward the east door. Dimly Harry realized he was going to die.   
  
As his vision began to fade, he saw someone enter his sight and reach gentle arms toward him to pick him up. Delirious, Harry reached out his hand and touched the person's cheek. It was rough with a beard.  
  
"Hold on, Harry," said the suprisingly soft voice of Boromir, "you will get through this." He stroked Harry's hair with the love of a brother.  
  
Then Boromir picked him up, jarring his leg, and finally Harry slipped into blessed blackness.   
  
He remembered nothing after that moment, not even the death-defying race for time through the maze of broken stairs and crumbling bridges, not even the recovery of Frodo and the heroic sacrifice of Gandalf. He didn't wake until they were outside of the horrible caves, resting in the sunlight.  
  
Harry's eyes opened, bloodshot, and he squinted up at the sun in bemusement. Then all of his aches and memories came rushing back, and his leg throbbed angrily at him from where it rested on a sharp bit of rock. Even that much was enough to make him want to pass out again.  
  
"W-wha-" he croaked, voice hoarse. He coughed, red flecks decorating his lips, and the company's attention immediately shifted to him. Legolas rushed over and cradled Harry's head in his hands.   
  
"Legolas....wha' happened? he slurred. The elf's eyes shuttered off and he stood back up.   
  
"You remember nothing?"  
  
Harry shook his head a little. Aragorn looked over from where he stood on the edge of a rock cliff. "An Orc felled you. You would have been killed if it wasn't for Boromir. He carried you out of the cave and protected you."  
  
As his vision began to clear up, blurry figures began to come into his vision. But there were only eight...  
  
"Gandalf?" said Harry slowly, a little trail of blood escaping his mouth and running down the side of his head. "Where's Gandalf?"  
  
The temperature around the company seemed to drop twenty degrees. Legolas turned his head away. "Please," Harry said with a little tremor in his voice, "where is he?"  
  
"He is dead," Aragorn said shortly. "He fell in the pits of Moria." He turned to face the mountains and held up his sword. "Farewell, Gandalf! Did I not say to you: if you pass the doors of Moria, beware? Alas that I spoke true? What hope do we have without you?" He hid his face in his hands.  
  
The warm air and the pain in his thigh finally became to much to handle. Harry's vision wavered and finally went dim.  
  
_________________________  
  
Harry woke up to find the pain in his leg suprisingly faint. He felt it and found that all that was there was a rough scab, still tender and red. He looked around to find no one there, not even Legolas or Frodo. The trees around him seemed threatening and dark. Getting to his feet slowly, he noticed a clearing in the woods. The clearing suddenly came rushing up to meet him, so that Harry found himself standing in it sooner than he could blink.  
  
"What's this?" he mused, bending down to pick up a small glass ball filled with a red fog. No sooner than he had touched it then his scar seemingly exploded in pain, so great that Harry whimpered and fell to the soft, grassy floor, curling into a tight ball. With great effort, he reached his hand and touched his scar, his hand coming back bright with blood.  
  
"That's what you get."  
  
Through his pain induced haze, Harry looked up and saw the beloved face of his Ron. "Ron?" he whispered, tears clouding up his voice.  
  
"That's what you get, Harry. You forgot me."  
  
Ron reached out his hand and touched Harry's forehead with his palm and new pain erupted in Harry's head, until he couldn't see and his body had gone numb. Harry twisted and writhed on the ground, his head tossing from side to side in pain, fists clenched.  
  
As soon as it had started, the pain stopped, the aftershocks still running through his body. He raised up his head with some difficulty to look through grayed vision at his lover. "Ron?" he said softly, tiny prickles in the back of his throat.  
  
"It's too late. You lost me. Didn't you love me?" Harry watched in horror as Ron faded out of sight.   
  
"NO! Ron! Come back!" He ran toward the spot where his lover had been, falling to his knees when his legs turned to jelly. "No...come back!"  
  
________________________  
  
"Please...come back....Ron!" Harry bolted up, cold sweat on his forehead and his hands trembling. Hands were on his shoulders then, pushing him back onto the grass covered ground and smoothing back his damp hair. "Shhh...it was a dream, Harry, shh..."  
  
He looked up into the gray, caring eyes of Legolas. The words of Ron from his dream came back to him.  
  
"No!" Harry said in a weak voice, trying his very best to shove Legolas off. The elf leaned back, gave him an unreadable look, and stood up.  
  
"We leave for Lothlorien in the morning. I suggest you get more sleep, Harry." And with that he was gone.  
  
Harry, trembling, settled back onto the ground and realized that he didn't even know where they were. At the moment, however, the lure of sleep was too strong and he closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't dream.  
  
____________________________ 


	8. Sleep Sound

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Eight - Sleep Sound  
  
By Capella no da  
  
Note: this is a rare occurance! I've been hit by inspiration to write a new chapter -- with more Harry angst of course, what else? By the way, if you get confused in the story about the trees (you'll see what I mean) look at the bottom where I have the notes. It'll explain all to you :)  
  
this chapter is dedicated to the reviewers, as always:  
  
Eternal firesinger, mare, dark hikari kamiya (i updated finally -- although i'm sure it's not what everybody wanted, you little hentais *^_^*), Tschubi-chan *gives you a great big ol hug* (i'm working on the alternate ending to fetish as we speak! it's just er, in the works *^_^*), M14Mouse, gwen (i probably shouldn't have skipped the bridge of khazadum, but i couldn't honestly think of what to do...i know, i'm a lousy writer hehe), Pheonix, Kivessa, Silent Stalker, and Lady bisenshi. :) you guys are great!  
  
And next chapter i'll probably have a peice of Ron in here or something, because i don't wanna leave him out of the story forever.   
  
One more thing: Harry and Boromir are NOT a couple. I just thought that Boromir would make a great brother figure to Harry. So stop being the little hentais you are -- Boromir's a platonic relationship. :)  
  
And also, some of the events are out of place, but i'm not going totally by the book. Deal.  
  
ENJOY! (no song quote today, sadly)  
  
_______________________  
  
Harry's vision was finally beginning to get a little watery, his feet not as steady as they had been after a day of rest. Beside the fact, of course, that he had been on his feet for less than ten minutes.  
  
"That is Durin's Stone!" Gimli cried, "I cannot pass without turning aside for the moment to look at the wonders of that dale!"  
  
The rough voice interrupted Harry's stupor that had been slowly taking over his mind, the wake from near sleep seeming like a gust of cold air. Harry blinked once, twice, and looked around him, noticing for the first time that Frodo looked near as rough as he did.   
  
"Come Frodo, Harry! I would not have you go without seeing Kheled-zaram!" Springing down the green slope, the dwarf was full of life and energy. Harry was instantly envious.  
  
Frodo looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes full of physical hurt, making Harry remember that spear near piercing the young hobbit's side. He placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder and offered him a half smile which was more of a grimace. He lead the way down where the dwarf had galloped. They barely noticed Sam following silently.  
  
The turquoise waters that opened up in front of him glittered like gems to his eyes, the mid day sun making the particles floating in the air sparkle and shimmer. Gimli was already standing impatiently next to a cracked and weathered standing stone, its carved sides unreadable with time.   
  
"Come, Frodo, let us look in the pool ere we go!" Both dwarf and hobbit hunched over the pool. Gimli let out a shout of joy. "O Kheled zaram fair and wonderful! There lies the crown of Durin til he wakes. Farewell!" The dwarf sketched a quick little bow, and both him and Frodo trudged back up the hill.   
  
Harry looked behind his shoulder, watching them go, then bent over the pond. But the image that emerged slowly wasn't any crown.  
  
It was three trees, proud and in their youth. Their leaves were gold and silver, and bright rays of light issued from each tree. Then, slowly, the hazelnut and the willow steadily leaned toward each other, their green and yellow light mingling and making an even more beautiful collage of colors. The walnut tree, left alone and without the other's light, slowly withered away and died, its red light fading away.   
  
Harry leaned back violently, staring at the pond. He pressed his palms against his f and slowly walked back to the company.  
  
_______________________  
  
By the time he had made the trek back up the slope his vision had returned to the way it was. Deep shadows lengthened everything, making the world seem frightening and dark. Afraid to reveal this to the others just to be told that he was a burden, too weak to take care of himself, he kept his mouth shut.   
  
An hour passed. Harry looked over at Sam and Frodo, noticing blearily that they looked as weak as he. The back of his leg ached terribly, alternating between freezing cold and blazing fire. Cold sweat ran down his face as the three struggled to t keep up. After what seemed like forever Legolas looked back and concern entered his face. The elf turned and whispered something to Aragorn, who looked dismayed and ran back, calling for Legolas and Boromir to follow him.  
  
"I am sorry Frodo," he cried, "I have forgotten about your hurts, and Harry and Sam too. Come Legolas, Boromir, we will carry them."  
  
Aragorn scooped up Sam, who was considerably lighter, and held him in his arms as he would a small child. Frodo was carried by Legolas, and Harry was relieved and happy beyond words when Boromir picked him up gently and offered him a soft smile. "Sleep, Harry," he whispered, laying a hand on Harry's damp forehead. Harry yawned and in a minute was asleep.  
  
______________________  
  
Harry awoke to soft voices conversing above him. He opened his eyes and tried to lift a hand to rub them, dismayed when he barely had the strength to do even that. The searing torment from his leg had spread to the rest of his body and in a sudden flash of knowledge he realized the blade that had pierced him had been poisoned. Of course it had, he thought fuzzily, everything here is poison. He wasn't quite sure what he meant by that.  
  
Sam sat beside him, a bandage over one eye and wrapped around his head. He looked, Harry thought, like a child war veteran. His thoughts were bordering dangerously on hysteria.   
  
  
  
Aragorn was rubbing some sort of water into Frodo's side, where a dark, ugly bruise had formed. The scent of the water floated towards Harry, and the shadows lifted from his eyes even as the pain receded. Aragorn noticed he was awake and nodded towards him, concerned.  
  
"You have taken a grave hurt, young wizard," he said in a gentle tone that contrasted his words. "The sword you were struck with was poisoned and it was a large wound that is already beginning to infect. I will wash it with athelas but it will take a while to heal."  
  
Aragorn brought leaves over to Harry and crushed them, putting the leaves in water and washing his leg. Instead of the fiery hurt, it was simply and blissfully numb now, and as the scent drifted toward him, his vision nearly cleared. He felt well enough to almost walk. Almost. He was afraid to ask, afraid to be a burden, but Boromir solved that for him.  
  
The big man smiled gruffly down at him. "I'll carry you, little wizard," he said, and with almost no effort he picked Harry up and looked at Aragorn for instructions.   
  
"You have missed much, Harry. We are in the forest of the Lady of the Wood, Galadriel." When Harry looked at him questioningly, he added, "Lothlorien." His eyes glazed in remembrance, looking up to the sky, murmuring, "Glad am I to hear again the wind in the trees!" He and Legolas stepped forward, hobbits trailing along behind, but Boromir stood firm. Harry looked up at the man questioningly.  
  
"Is there no other way?"  
  
"What fairer way would you desire? Besides, man, we are already deep in the forest, near the singing waters of the Nimrodel. We only have a short way to journey. Come, Boromir. I assure you, no undeserved harm will come to you in these woods."  
  
"Then lead on!" Boromir said, a hint of doubt in the deep voice. "But it is perilous."  
  
"Perilous indeed, but fair and perilous; but only evil near fear it, or those who bring evil with them. Follow me!"  
  
________________________  
  
  
  
The company had not gone far when the sweet effects of the athelas leaf began to wear off. Harry's sight began to dim again, making everything seem as if it was in eternal night. Only Frodo seemed lit by an unholy fire, burning at his chest. He started to nod off in Boromir's arms, his face nestled on the big man's shoulder. He shivered with a sudden cold.  
  
After a while Harry started hearing rushing water; the stream, he assumed, sounded like tinkling bells. Slowly he perceived that the bell like sound of the water was forming delicate words, flowing into sentences. The voice sounded just like the stream, clear and soft with a lilting accent.   
  
Steadily the fog over his vision cleared, and he was able to see Legolas standing next to a blue, rushing river, opening his mouth in song.   
  
As the song went on, strangely Harry began to feel better, the aches and pains in his limbs reducing to near nothing and his senses returning. The lilting song faded out and stopped, replaced by the gentle words of Legolas speaking. Harry didn't focus on the words, trying to stay awake. He felt better but incredibly tired. The song had worked its own sort of magic on him.   
  
The company began to move at last, deeper into the forest. Harry grew restless in Boromir's arms.  
  
"I can walk," he complained hoarsely. Boromir nearly dropped him in shock.  
  
"I had feared you were dead, little wizard," he exclaimed, setting Harry on his feet, who wavered for a moment.  
  
"I - I just needed some time, is all." Harry didn't feel like telling the man about Legolas's song; for some reason it seemed too intimate, too private.  
  
Boromir smiled. "Its a good thing you woke, for I was getting tired. I have carried you for a good day and a half, through the woods of Lothlorien. We're going to make camp, here," he said, and looked rather displeased.  
  
"Where?" Harry asked, puzzled, as he looked around the forest floor.  
  
Boromir looked even more disgusted and pointed up to the trees. Harry nearly fell over. They were sleeping in a tree? At the moment, Boromir's arms seemed a lot more comfortable, and he considered fainting again, figuring it was the only way he'd get any sleep that night.  
  
For the first time he noticed his companions. Feeling a little guilty at neglecting Legolas for so long, he walked shakily up to the elf, who was contemplating a tree. Touching the elf's arm, he offered a weak smile that was returned with blinding brilliance. Legolas casually slipped an arm around Harry's waist that the wizard didn't shrug off.  
  
"I will climb up. I am at home in the trees, by root or bough, though these trees are of a kind strange to me, save as a name in song. Mellyrn they are called, and are those that bear the yellow blossom, but I have never climbed in one. I will see now what is their shape and way of growth." With suprising grace, he leapt up and grabbed a branch. But even as he was about to climb farther, a command issued from the tree in a voice much like Legolas's.  
  
"Daro!"  
  
Legolas fell down to the ground and looked up, shrinking against the trunk of the tree. "Stay perfectly still and do not move!" he hissed. The tinkling laughter made him relax his tensed body, and he sent significant glances to everyone in the company. A question in Elven came down from the branches and Legolas spoke back in kind. Harry looked at him in amazement.  
  
"Who are they and what do they say?" Merry asked.  
  
"They're Elves," answered Sam, looking up, "can't you hear their voices?"  
  
Legolas looked over at them in amusement, all traces of earlier fear gone. "They are elves, and they say you breathe so loudly they could shoot you in the dark." Sam covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to make noise. Harry resisted the urge to grin. "They also say that you need have no fear. They have been aware of us for a long while. They heard my voice across the Nimrodel and knew that I was one of their own. Now they bid me climb up with Frodo; for they have some tidings of him and his journey. The others they ask to wait a little and keep watch, until they decide what is to be done."  
  
Harry waited until Legolas and Frodo were out of sight to collapse against the tree trunk, breathing loudly and not caring. Resting one hand against his slightly sweaty forehead, he closed his eyes and slipped into sleep.  
  
_______________________  
  
  
  
Late in the night he woke. Blinking, thinking he was in a dream, he looked around the flet he was on, wrapped up in a soft blanket. He decided that it wasn't a dream, but should be, so yawning he laid his head back down.  
  
Suddenly a golden-haired head appeared at the entrance. It was Legolas.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked sleepily, and more than a little crankily.  
  
"Orc!" Legolas said, mouth twisted in a grimace. "Stay here. You are in danger." With that short warning he seemingly flew back down the tree in haste.  
  
Yeah right, Harry thought wryly, climbing to his feet with a just a little spark of pain in his leg. He climbed down the tree-ladder slowly, taking care not to fall the twenty feet to the ground below. When he reached the dirt and grass covered floor, shadows casting threatening figures all around, he began to think he should have stayed in the tree. "Lumos!" he said softly, bathing the clearing in a soft glow for a few moments. Suddenly hearing footsteps, a strange foreboding clenched his heart with a cold fear. He muttered "nox" and crouched behind his tree, peering around the corner.  
  
Strange words reached his ears about the same time the footsteps were twenty feet away from the tree he hid behind. They weren't the pretty voices of elves nor the same lilting language. They were Orcs and they were heading right for where he was.  
  
Don't find me, he prayed, at the same time wondering if the Orcs had a good sense of smell. He hoped to God they didn't.  
  
Dread filled him when he heard the voices get excited and louder, obviously something had caught their attention. He crouched lower behind the tree, inhaling the sweet smell of flowers and feeling the mossy trunk beneath his fingers and wondering if they were the last things he'd ever remember.  
  
Then a sharp pain to his neck and a sickening crack, and he fell spiraling into unconsiousness.  
  
________________________  
  
NOTES: Here are the reasons for the trees -- i actually got these off Fungrams.  
  
The hazelnut tree is Harry, the Weeping Willow is Legolas, and the walnut tree is Ron. here's why:  
  
Harry: HAZELNUT TREE (the Extraordinary) - charming, undemanding, very understanding, knows how to make an impression, active fighter for social cause, popular, moody, and capricious lover, honest and tolerant partner, precise sense of judgment.   
  
Ron: WALNUT TREE(the Passion) - unrelenting, strange and full of contrasts, often egotistic, aggressive, noble, broad horizon, unexpected reactions, spontaneous, unlimited ambition, no flexibility, difficult and uncommon partner, not always liked but often admired, ingenious strategist, very jealous and passionate, no compromise.   
  
Legolas: WEEPING WILLOW(the Melancholy) - beautiful but full of melancholy, attractive, very empathetic, loves anything beautiful and tasteful, loves to travel, dreamer, restless, capricious, honest, can be influenced but is not easy to live with, demanding, good intuition, suffers in love but finds sometimes an anchoring partner.  
  
So you see why I did that? Now i bet it has a lot more meaning, eh? 


	9. Fallen Knight

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter 9 - Fallen Knight  
  
by Capella no da  
  
Note: FINALLY! *wipes forehead* this one was a LONG time in coming, sorry to you folks *^_^*  
  
If anyone was wondering, I got the tree thing from www.fungrams.com/network/tree2.shtml. ;) feel free to use it in your writing! :D  
  
Lemme see....anything else I need to say? Oh yes, I'll be making up almost all the spells I use here. They'll all just be Latin. I'm not that original.  
  
Well enjoy!  
  
Oh yes, as a P.S., does anyone know the names of all the wizards?  
  
By the way, yes, it's real elvish. :)  
  
____________________________  
  
All alone cold fields you wander  
  
Memories of it, cloud your sight  
  
Fills your dreams, disturbs your slumber  
  
Lost your way, a fallen knight...  
  
-- Otherworld, FFX  
  
____________________________  
  
"What do you mean, you sensed magic? Do you really think it is so rare?"  
  
  
  
The sound of a sniveling voice. "But master, it was not Gandalf's or Radagast's, or any other of the wizards."  
  
  
  
"Really." A pondering tone. "And I suppose you'll tell me it was none of the Valar, as well?"  
  
"No, master."  
  
Pause. Then, "Do you know exactly what has caused this...magic?"  
  
  
  
"My Orcs have captured a man, little older than a boy, master. He carried a wand and had the imperial mark of the Valar on his forehead. He hasn't woken in three days."  
  
A strange hissing noise. "The imperial mark? And he still is not dead? You should have killed him, fool! A messenger from the Valar is not to be taken lightly!"  
  
Whimpering sounds. "B-but master, I th-thought maybe we could turn him? A messenger from the Valar with this power could b-be very useful, master."  
  
"Turn the messenger of the Valar to us...yes, he could be very useful. In one stroke I could use him for the downfall of Middle Earth as well as revenge against Manwe, overconfident fool that he is." Another pause. "See that the boy is...persuaded...to fight for us, but do not kill him. You will be suitably rewarded. You have done well, Saruman."  
  
  
  
"Yes, master. Thank you, master."  
  
  
  
"Go."  
  
___________________________  
  
Harry woke slowly to a place that was definitely not the forest.  
  
A slow dripping sound echoed in the dark chamber he found himself in. A single ray of light streamed from the arrow-slit window in the top of the spiraling tower, lighting the dust particles in the room as the floated aimlessly around. The roof, which was at least fifty feet above his head, seemed to move. He squinted his eyes and, as soon as he focused on it, the movement stopped. All that was left on the roof was a mosaic of a rider in a dark cloak on a black horse. The picture tugged at something in Harry's memory.  
  
The bed on which he lay was surprisingly soft, the sheet surrounding him almost too silky to be real. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room besides a small desk on which lay, astoundingly, his wand. Harry figured that whoever captured him couldn't be too bad if they left him his wand, or -- as fear threatened to take over his mind -- they were just too powerful to care. He hoped it was the first.  
  
Struggling to raise his suddenly weak hand to his forehead, the white of his skin when he took his hand away was slick with blood. Suddenly the horrible dream he'd had a few nights ago rose to his mind -- was this a dream, too? The pain throbbing in his head, however, seemed all too real.  
  
"Ah, you're awake."  
  
The voice that came from the shadows in front of him seemed...almost angelic. The words slid together like honey, the smooth voice lilting in just that one phrase. Harry's attempt to sit up made his vision swim for a few seconds. He felt faintly sick.  
  
"Poor boy. You have gone through much today and I am truly sorry for your hurts, my young friend. Let me help you."   
  
The soothing words flowed around Harry and it was all he could do to nod dumbly. The figure stepped out of the shadows and he could swear --  
  
"Professor Dumbledore?" he gasped, luminous green eyes going wide.  
  
The kind looking wizard chuckled. "No, no, young wizard. My name is Saruman, and you are in the tower of Orthanc, under my care."  
  
Saruman? The name sounded so familiar...he thought he'd heard someone else talk about a Saruman, what seemed like years ago. He dismissed it as unimportant. Whoever had told him must have been mistaken. Yes, that's right. The only thing that mattered now is Saruman. Master.  
  
That didn't seem right though. For a moment, Harry had the faint feeling like he'd been put under the Imperio curse, his head a void of white blissfulness. In a remote corner of his mind, his consciousness struggled.  
  
Saruman laid a pale hand on Harry's forehead. Instead of the soothing he had expected, however, Saruman's hand made his scar burn with a vengeance. His eyes looked up at Saruman with hurt and confusion and he twisted, trying desperately to avoid Saruman's hand.  
  
"Stop it," the older wizard snapped, the spell of his honeyed voice broken for a moment. His fingernails dug into the sides of Harry's head.   
  
No, no, no...Harry chanted silently to himself, finally breaking free of Saruman's hand. He flung his hand to the side and grabbed desperately on to his wand, pointing at the wizard and breathing heavily. "Don't come near me," he panted, "or I'll rip your head off your bloody shoulders."  
  
For a moment, Saruman's face seemed to twist into a whole different horrible being, before he relaxed and smiled a genuine smile.   
  
  
  
"I used quite a bit of coercion on you, my boy. You're extremely strong." His voice changed back into flowing words. "I could use someone like you to help me out, young one. What do you say?"  
  
Harry smiled sickly sweet. "I say that you're bloody mad," he replied jovially.  
  
Saruman looked perplexed. "Why do you say that?" he asked, nonplused. "Has someone been spreading ill rumors about me?"  
  
"I know what Gandalf has said about you. You try to use your powers to compel people to do what you want. Well, I'm not stupid. It won't work on me and as soon as my friends get here they're going to kill you and get me out."  
  
  
  
Saruman's face twisted into an ugly grimace. "Your precious little friends are dead!" he hissed wickedly, curling his hands into claws as if to pounce. Harry shrunk against the headboard.  
  
"They are not," he whispered. And as soon as they get here, you'll be sorry."  
  
If possible, Saruman looked even more vicious. "The Valar will be sorry when they've found out that I've killed their filthy little messenger!" he snarled with vehemence, and in a flash, disappeared.  
  
The Valar? Saruman really was mad. Harry wasn't even sure what the Valar was, save that everyone seemed to regard them as high beings, so maybe they were elves or something.  
  
"Shit," Harry muttered. "I've got to get out of here before he really does go mad and kill me." He pointed his wand at the wall, narrowing his eyes. "Annihilare!"  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Harry stared at the wall in amazement. That breaking spell was supposed to be able to break any kind of wall or door! He'd tried it so many times...why wasn't it working?  
  
Suddenly a wave of pain crashed into him, forcing to his knees. He clutched his head in his hands and pressed his forehead to the floor, trying desperately to resist the urge to pass out. The pain became too much and he fell to the floor, closing his eyes.  
  
_____________________________  
  
  
  
Hlasta!  
  
Mornie utulie...  
  
Harry woke to silence pressing in on his ears. All around him, in the dark that stretched as far as he could tell, little lights flashed on and off. Whispers followed him as he ran blindly.  
  
Yenillor morne tulinte I quettar tercano nuvura...  
  
"Stop!" Harry shrieked to no one, pressing his palms into his ears to shut it out. The whispers became louder.  
  
Hlasta! Qyetes hfirimain!  
  
Listen...  
  
"Please stop!" he screamed desperately at the top of his lungs, lashing out at the tiny flickering lights.  
  
Hlasta...  
  
_________________________  
  
"Stop!"  
  
Harry's eyes flew open in a flash. Breathing heavily, he sat up, feeling the cold floor beneath his hands. He looked up into the cold eyes of Saruman.  
  
"How did you like that, wizard? Magic backlash from trying a spell on the impenetrable walls of Orthanc. I'd daresay you shouldn't try that again, little one. We need your strength." Saruman's voice sounded like ice and death, not sweet anymore.  
  
Harry's teeth chattered as he tried to speak and he found that the words wouldn't come out. Instead, he suited himself with muttering curses under his breath.  
  
"I wouldn't try it," Saruman said sweetly. "I have something to show you and it would be terrible if I had to wait for you to wake up. I daresay you should be careful. The creatures down there are not adverse to manflesh."  
  
Saruman touched his shoulder, despite Harry's best efforts to get away, and they both disappeared in a flash of light.  
  
__________________________ 


	10. Hold On

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Ten : Hold On  
  
by Capella no da  
  
Note: Wow! Such a fast chapter! This one should be considerably longer and there's a little bit of cursing and bad things but hey! It's an orc. Whaddya expect?  
  
an especially LARGE kudos to the reviewers! I was going to wait until I had 100 reviews to put this new chapter out...but oh well. *looks depressed* Can i get some more reviews? Prettty please? *puppy dog eyes*  
  
Okay, the Orc in this fic I got from the really thorough website: http://www.shadowclan.cx/UO/CS/language.htm I know not all of it is accurate but who cares! It sounds cool!   
  
And by the way, just in case you're wondering why so much time went by during when Harry was captured and when he reappears in the world -- time goes by differently in the tower he was trapped in. dunno if it's authentic but it fits and hey, ya never know!  
  
And if Saruman seems OOC--he's just revealing his inner asshole. At least, that's how I view him when he's not all sweet and lovey. And Harry's not a wimp in this part, coz I'd be scared outta my mind too *^_^* oh and sorry about using the 'i am old but not yet dotard' remark -- everytime i read that in the books, it makes me laugh. ^_^  
  
ENJOY!  
  
_________________________________  
  
When the flashes of light in front of his eyes receded, Harry expected to see rusting chains, torture chambers, huge towering monsters with sharp, glistening teeth -- anything but what he saw. Which was darkness.  
  
"What the bloody hell? --"  
  
"Walk forward,'' came the smooth voice of Saruman behind him, and almost against his will, Harry's feet moved. He figured he had nothing to lose anyway.  
  
"I hope you won't object terribly if I put these on, young wizard." A snap and click, and the feel of cold metal around his wrists, accompanied the words. Harry whirled around in sharp protest only to find Saruman nowhere in sight. Suspiciously narrowing his green eyes, he slowly spun back around --  
  
-- and Saruman was an inch away from his face, thin lips smiling wickedly.  
  
"Those aren't normal chains," he whispered dangerously. "If you get more than five feet away from the tower, it drains your soul out of your body. Then you can spend the rest of your wretched existence in the halls of Mandos, listening to Nienna spin her songs of sadness. That is, if they will take pity on your dirty spirit." He squeezed the chain in between the two cuffs, and a bolt of pain took Harry by suprise. Saruman smirked. "Follow me."  
  
Trailing a few feet behind Saruman and staring dully at the ground, Harry didn't discern how long they walked until the tunnel opened up into a huge cavern. The stone beneath his bare feet became sharp and pierced his skin, making the footprints he left red with blood. He didn't notice. The cries and screams in a harsh, unforgiving language didn't reach his ears.  
  
"We have arrived."  
  
A sharp tug of the chain and Harry's eyes filled with pain-tears at the sharp pain. As he looked up, the dead light in his eyes quickly became one of fear.  
  
"Wh-what is this place?"  
  
The stone on which he stood was an outhanging, opening up into a gigantic underground cave. The stone walls were red with the reflected light from thousands of flickering fires scattered around the floor of the cavern. There were different levels of it, going so deep that Harry could barely see the fires at the bottom. And all around them were pictures of pain and fear.  
  
What scared him the most at first were the creatures he saw everywhere, the things that he'd seen in the woods of Lothlorien what seemed like years ago. They almost seemed...bigger, this time, more hideous, with stringy hair and yellow fangs, distorted faces and bodies. Involuntarily, Harry shrunk back, not noticing the small smile on Saruman's face.  
  
There were what looked like mud pits scattered everywhere. At first Harry didn't see why they were there, but a mud put not twenty feet below them caught his attention. It was...moving. There were chains that went into the struggling mud, and to Harry's horror, a figure slowly rose out of it. As the mud slid off it's body like water, one of the most hideous faces he'd ever seen came out from under it. Its yellow eyes were squinted, huge muscles nearly bursting out of the thing's animal clothing. As its eyes swept the room with surprising intelligence, Harry felt like running away as the creature's eyes looked straight at him.  
  
Suddenly a hand gripped his shoulder. Harry looked up into the smug face of Saruman.  
  
"You showed such an interest in my Uruk-hai that I think I really should introduce you." With astonishing strength, the wizard pushed Harry off the edge of the precipice.  
  
Harry couldn't help the shriek of suprise that escaped his lips when he fell, nor the whimper of pain as he hit the bottom, twisting his ankle under him. For some reason, the Uruk-hai's eyes were suddenly on him with a strange sort of hunger. He tried to get up and nearly stumbled on his ankle as he slowly crept away from the huge Orc.  
  
All of a sudden Saruman appeared next to Harry, grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him to look at the Orc. Saruman smiled slowly and asked something of the Orc in the same strange, rasping language that everyone else was speaking. Harry tried to listen to the Orc's response.  
  
"Uld aughdu urthug tu raguga luba matuurz grabb ta!" it said roughly, keeping hungry eyes on Harry the entire time.  
  
Saruman laughed cruelly. "He says that he doesn't know if he wants to eat the pretty mortal or fuck him."   
  
Harry jerked in his grasp and stared up at the wizard with huge, liquid eyes. "Y-you can't--"  
  
"Yes, I can, little Valar, and if you don't obey me, you'll find yourself entertaining these Orcs very soon. And I don't know if even you can survive that. I'm sure after a good fuck they get very hungry."  
  
Thinking hard, an idea suddenly popped into Harry's head. Granted, it was probably something that would get him killed, but anything was better than this. Anything.  
  
"Occaeco!" he shouted desperately, and at the same time twisted his hands out of Saruman's grasp. Gasps like tiny hissing fires came from all over the cavern as the Orcs and Saruman suddenly found themselves temporarily blind. Taking the only time he would probably ever get, Harry tore off through a hall to his right as fast as his legs would carry him, not stopping to wonder how the spell had worked without his wand.  
  
Running down the dim tunnel, lit only by a few torches hanging on the wall, Harry ducked into a small crevasse to his left and crouched there, listening to the angry voices as they went by.  
  
He stared at the chains, thinking, trying to figure out some way to escape them because, honestly, he was sure that anything was better than what Saruman had told him. So slowly, agonizingly, he steadily pulled his hand out of the cuff. He had to supress his whimpers of pain, for fear of being discovered, as blood slowly slicked the cuff. Finally, with a decisive pop as his thumb was dislocated, his hand was free.  
  
"God..." he whispered, clutching his hand to his chest even as a little bit of happiness welled up in him. He wasn't going to die here. Saruman would not get that satisfaction from him. All he had to do was get his other hand out of the chains.   
  
His other hand hurt almost more than the first, blood trickling down from where it had been rubbed raw. Flaps of skin hung off his hands and he couldn't bend his fingers at all, let alone his thumb. He could barely get up the courage to pop that back into place.  
  
He was free. Determination seemed to get stronger, a newfound strength making him get to his feet. He had to find the doors. With that, he set out through the dark tunnel.  
  
__________________________  
  
After about six hours, panic began to set in. All the damned hallways looked exactly the same once he had emerged from the mud cavern, the only difference was the black stone that was now set in the walls. It didn't matter anyway, as the stone was seemingly indestructible. Harry cursed those walls not a small amount of times.   
  
He was starting to get a little hysterical with the fear that he'd wander around these tunnels until he starved, or died from thirst, or just went mad; it already seemed like he close to the third, now. The possibility of seeing light and trees and Legolas were the only things that kept him going now, or else he would have just collapsed a long time ago for the Orcs to find. That Saruman might give him to that Uruk-hai -- the horror of that kept him on his feet. Anything had to be better than that. Every step he took, he prayed not to be found. His hands throbbed in pain and he couldn't breathe.  
  
Suddenly, light seemed to blind him from all sides, making him wonder if Saruman had indeed found him. But when he could open his eyes and not squint, he realized that all he had done was go into a room full of windows. His eyes were tender from so long in the dark.  
  
The room was huge, at least the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It had windows all along one side of the black stoned walls, almost touching one another. And god - on the left side of the room were two magnificent doors, etched with words and flowing designes. Harry sprinted toward them with desperation. Free, he thought, Saruman is not going to bloody get me.  
  
He was not more than five feet from the door when a wave of...something...washed over him. He stopped in confusion but decided to ignore it. The black-haired youth took one more step forward and was thrown backward in a blast of energy, skidding across the floor until he almost hit the wall opposite where he'd been. His vision blacked out for a moment, and when he came to, Saruman was standing in the front of the room, staring at him with unreadable eyes.  
  
Is this another dream? Harry wondered, hoping with all his might it was. But the pain in his bloody hands was real and Saruman's voice when he spoke resonated around the room, dashing his hopes.   
  
"Do you not think that I'd protect against this, filthy wizard? I may be hundreds of years old but not yet dotard. As your punishment I have agreed to let you...entertain my Uruk-hai warrior for a while. I have to keep them content if I want them under my rule."   
  
As he spoke, the Uruk-hai that had been standing behind Saruman stepped in front of him, a strange gleam in his two yellow eyes. With a small whimper, Harry scooted away from him until his back hit the wall, as the orc advanced.  
  
"Get away from me!" Harry said, barely above a whisper.   
  
He closed his eyes, waiting for the dig of sharp teeth or -- something else -- when there was a tremedous BANG! and he heard a sharp cry of pain and a thud. He cautiously opened one eye, a loud gasp escaping his lips when he saw who it was.  
  
"Gandalf?"   
  
_________________________ 


	11. Tomorrow May Rain

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Eleven - Tomorrow May Rain  
  
by Capella no da  
  
Note: This probably took the longest out of all my chapters to write! *^_^* So sorry to all you folks out there...I had a computer virus, which I fixed two weeks ago...*cringe* I know. I should have had the next chapter out the VERY NEXT DAY...but then...my muse went on permanent leave. So I had a bad case of writer's block. But tonight I had a free two hours so I decided to FORCE myself to write this! And because of that it might not be as good as the rest of them, but hey! it's out, right?  
  
Now that that's over with, here, FINALLY, is the next chapter!  
  
______________________________  
  
"One day you'll look to see I've gone  
  
For tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun  
  
Some day you'll know I was the one  
  
But tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun."  
  
-- Beatles, "I'll Follow the Sun"  
  
______________________________  
  
    Harry had never had such an urge to hug someone in his entire life.  
  
      Whatever Gandalf had done worked -- the Uruk-hai was laying face down a few paces away from his feet, small rivlets of blood running down through its hair to the floor.  Scooting back until the creature was a better distance away, Harry looked up and a bright flash of light nearly blinded him.  
  
      Getting up the courage to open his eyes, he watched in amazement as Gandalf raised his staff and seemed to tower over Saruman like a giant.  Saruman's face was nothing of the confident, sneering man he had been earlier, nor the smooth honey of the beginning.  He was cowering in fear on the floor, and Harry resisted the urge to rub his face in it.  
  
      Suddenly Gandalf looked in his direction, blue eyes flashing a horrible fire, and beckoned him with a crook of a finger.  Harry scrambled to his feet ignoring his twisted ankle and slowly oozing hands.  He ran as fast as he could to the safety of the wizard and the open doors with sunshine behind them.  
  
      Gandalf glared once more around the hall of Saruman before walking out with a almost kingly air, glancing at Harry to follow.    
  
      Once the huge doors slammed shut behind them and they were down the stairs, Harry whirled around to face Gandalf.    
  
      "Bloody hell..." was all he could manage for a moment.  A million questions were whirling around his head so he asked the first thing that came to him.  "Aragorn said you were dead!"  
  
       "Gandalf," he murmured.  "Yes, I was called Gandalf once."  He sighed, sitting on a boulder.  "I am no longer Gandalf the Gray, but Gandalf the White, as Saruman was and should have been.  But he is corrupt."  
  
      Harry waited for more, but Gandalf stopped, shaking his head.  "But how did you survive, Gandalf?  If everyone said you were dead?"  
  
      Smiling, Gandalf placed his hand on Harry's head.  "That is a tale for later, young wizard.  For when we meet back up with a few friends."    
  
      "You mean Legolas and Aragorn?" Harry asked, big green eyes shining.  Gandalf nodded.  "And Boromir and Frodo?"    
  
      Harry didn't notice the minute pause in Gandalf's words. "I have already met with the Company.  Many things have happened but for now, we have a long journey, Harry."  Gandalf laid a gentle hand on Harry's forehead.  "Sleep."  Harry nodded slowly, already sinking to the ground in the beginnings of sleep, mussed black hair falling over his face.  He wasn't aware as Gandalf lifted him onto Shadowfax, or as hoofbeats pounded over the plains of Gondor, or as Gandalf carried him through the forest of Fangorn.  He wouldn't wake even when Gandalf finally found Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas.  For three days he slept, watched carefully by his companions.  
  
________________________________  
  
      "Should we tell him?"  
  
      "Not yet.  He will ask on his own and until then, none of you must speak a word of it."  
  
      "Gandalf --"  
  
      "I know you care for the boy, Legolas.  But we cannot risk anything right now.  If we tell him too early, I am afraid that -- I don't know what will happen.  He was close to Boromir."  
  
      "What happened to him in Orthanc, Gandalf?"  
  
      "I do not know, Aragorn.  For now we just must wait until he wakes, and then we must go to Theoden.  I wonder what will happen there to him."  
  
      "You mean you did not tell him --"  
  
      "No.  He will also find that out on his own."  
  
      "But what if he refuses?  Gondor's fate could very well rest on his shoulders, Gandalf.  I do not want to take that risk."  
  
      "I know, Aragorn.  More than anyone else, I know."  
  
____________________________  
  
      Harry woke to a cool hand caressing his hair gently.  Moaning from the sharp stabs of pain in his hands and legs, he moved slightly.  The hand was taken away, and a barely muted gasp of surprise came from above him.  
  
      "Harry?"  
  
      Trying to croak a response through a throat that was suddenly throbbing, Harry cracked open his eyes.  He had to blink several times before everything painfully came into focus.  A changeable pair of gray eyes filled with worry hovered above him.  
  
      "You're alive," Legolas murmured, cupping Harry's cheek from where the young wizard was lying on the ground.  "You were so still -- I almost thought --" His voice cut off sharply in the middle of his sentance.    
  
      "Water?" Harry whispered.  Legolas lifted a water bag to his dry lips and he drank greedily, trying to remember to stop so that he didn't get sick.  "Thank you."  He grinned at Legolas, whose face seemed to lift a little.  Apparently Legolas was still worried about the incident in Rivendell -- unless something had happened that Harry didn't know about.  He sincerely hoped nothing had.  
  
      "Harry, forgive me."  
  
      Harry blinked, taken off guard by the genuine apology.  "For what?" he answered cautiously.  Legolas paused, the apology obviously the extent of what he wanted to discuss.  His face never changed but those eyes became a little frightened.  Legolas stumbled over his words.  
  
      "For -- Rivendell.  I'm sorry about -- I know you have someone, Harry.  Forgive me.  I never wanted this between us."  Legolas seemed on the verge of saying something else, but caught himself.  
  
      Harry smiled easily and put his hand on Legolas's where it rested on Harry's cheek.  "Is that all?" he asked.  "I forgave you a long time ago."  
  
      Legolas's face was suddenly full of anguish.  "Gods, Harry, why couldn't you just hate me?" he cried, pushing off from the ground and walking into the dark depths of the forest.  Confused, Harry tried to push himself off the forest floor when a spasm of pain ripped through his stomach.  Falling back with a gasp, he clutched his middle and curled up in a ball, trying to relieve some of the pain.  It passed slowly, then was as if it had never been there.  
  
        
  
      Getting to his feet with only minimal trouble from the scrapes and cuts, Harry looked at his middle to make sure there wasn't a huge, gaping hole there.  He felt a little sheepish when nothing was wrong.  I must just be hungry, he thought. I've only been in that damn tower since forever, it seems like. He walked toward the distant fire, a faint feeling of unease settling in his stomach.  
  
_________________________________  
  
      "They were *captured*?"  
  
      "Harry --"  
  
      Clenching his fists, Harry looked up at Aragorn accusingly.  It seemed like such a little time ago when he'd talked to Pippin and Merry.  Now they were gone.  
  
      "Why the bloody hell didn't anyone try to protect them?" Harry asked.  "I thought this Fellowship was supposed to be like a family, you know, as in protecting each other?"  Harry knew he was probably going over the line but he didn't care.  
  
      Aragorn looked the angriest that Harry had ever seen him.  His face was carefully controlled, but his eyes shot daggers.  "Someone did protect them.  And now he's dead."  
  
      "Dead?" Harry asked quietly.  He almost knew what the answer would be.  
  
      "Boromir is dead, Harry."  
  
      Harry felt faintly like someone had punched him in the gut, all the air leaving his lungs in one breath.  His eyes clouded over with tears that he refused to let fall.  Dead.  He clenched his teeth tightly together to keep from sobbing.    
  
      Boromir, who had rescued Harry from the monsters when everyone else had forgotten.  Who had carried him for who knows how long through Moria and the paths beyond.  Who had become the older brother that Harry never had.  One of the only people here he could really trust.  Dead.  
  
      "Harry?" he heard Aragorn ask gently.  Unable to speak, dashing tears out of his eyes, Harry ran blindly into the woods.  Not looking where he was going he tripped over a tree root and fell, unable to get up.  He pressed his forehead against the soft dirt of the forest floor and shut his eyes.  He noticed dimly that his hands were shaking.  
  
      Shifting on to his side and curling up, not caring what animals lived in this forest, Harry silently cried himself to sleep.  
  
___________________________ 


	12. Save Us

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter 12 - Save Us  
  
by Capella no da  
  
A/N - Warning: there's a lot of dialogue here. Sorry, couldn't really avoid it.   
  
I made a few changes on the fic as a whole -- since i'm not good at making up titles, all the chapter titles will be from Nickleback's Hero or Five for Fighting's It's Not Easy. ^.^  
  
I want to get to the fic, so all I'll say is that reviews are brain food *^.^*  
  
BTW-for those of you who haven't read the Silmarillion, some of this about the Valar and Manwe might get confusing. But don't worry -- I'll do my best to explain (and I'm not making it up ^.~)  
  
_____________________________  
  
'And they say that a hero can save us;  
  
I'm not gonna stand here and wait.  
  
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles,  
  
Watch as they all fly away...'  
  
-Nickleback, "Hero"  
  
______________________________  
  
Harry woke up the next day dreaming about home.   
  
He grasped in his mind the disappearing images of Ron, Hermione, and Hogwarts as he slowly woke up. Ron....I'm so sorry.  
  
Wincing, opening his eyes, Harry sat up slowly, a ray of sunshine catching him in the face. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them, absently trying to wipe away the dried tear tracks staining his face. Just like Cedric, he thought dully. Killed, and probably my fault. If I would have been there...how many people do I have to hurt before I die?  
  
He didn't know how long he stayed there when he started to hear voices overlapping his thoughts. Scooting closer and hiding in a bush, he peered through it to see Legolas and Aragorn. Aragorn's face was carefully composed, while Legolas looked the most...frightened...that Harry had ever seen him. It looked abnormal on his smooth face.  
  
"We cannot let him do this, Aragorn, and you do know it. I know you are not that cold. I have followed your decisions thus far but this I cannot allow." Legolas seemed nearly frantic. "He cannot do this alone!"  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I know what you are saying, Legolas. But we have to do this. He's not just a mere child, but he might be more powerful than Saruman himself! Do you want that wasted?"  
  
Legolas's eyes widened. "Wasted?" he whispered.  
  
"You know what happened to the last one who was here. You know what will happen to Harry."  
  
"That was different. Harry is stronger than that one and he will make it, Aragorn. I know it."   
  
Legolas strode off into the woods opposite Harry, his even, beautiful brows pinched with anger. Aragorn stared up through a hole in the canopy, eyes full of sadness. "I am truly sorry, Harry," he murmured and walked slowly toward the fire.  
  
Had Aragorn known he was there? Harry frowned and got to his feet.   
  
Suddenly he was knocked back down, breath ripped from his lungs as another wave of pain hit him. He barely felt the dirt beneath his head or anything besides the horrible agony in his stomach, like a sword had been shoved through it. All he could do was curl up into a ball and pray for unconsciousness to take him.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like years, and with excruciating slowness, the pain receded. Just like the last time, it was just as if it had never been. He touched his stomach, feeling around for something that would cause this, but nothing was there. No hole, no wound, nothing.  
  
He heard the crunching of leaves before he saw Aragorn come into his vision, and, before he knew what he was doing, Harry flew to his feet. He grabbed Aragorn's shoulders and clutched them tightly, looking up at the ranger in desperation.  
  
"Aragorn, what is happening to me?" he said desperately as Aragorn gently took hold of his wrists and took Harry's hands off his arms. A shadow of a sad look passed over his face.  
  
"Harry, I do not know if this is the best time to discuss --"  
  
"Just tell me, Aragorn," Harry said. "Tell me why Saruman was after me and why he called me a messenger, and what this Sauron is. Tell me why I'm bloody here!" He was tempted to add 'and why am I falling apart from the inside?'  
  
Aragorn sighed deeply. "Alright, Harry. I think we owe you at least that much. Sit down." Harry sat on a nearby moss-covered rock, flinching when a little tremor of hurt raced through his middle. Aragorn didn't notice.  
  
"To answer your first question, Harry," Aragorn started slowly, "I must first tell you what you are. I'm sure you know of the symbol on your forehead?"  
  
Harry frowned. "It's a scar. From when I fought Voldemort, remember? I told you in the council of Rivendell."  
  
Aragorn waved his protest away. "Whatever it was in your world, in Middle-earth we only know it as one thing -- that you are an imperial message from Manwe, a Valar.  
  
** "In the beginning of time, before Arda, our world, was created, there was a supreme being named Eru. Eru decided to make his children, fashioned in the likeness of him. They are called the Ainur, or the Valar.  
  
"Eru had a plan to create Arda. He gathered his Ainur together and taught them to create a great song. This song planned the entire history and shape of Arda. It was perfect, a flawless world. However, there was one Ainur, named Melkor, who was tainted. Into the theme of music he wove discord of his own, a separate tune that was not pure, and the other Ainur became afraid.   
  
"Then Eru wove into the song another theme, small at first but rising in strength. These are the First-born, the Elves. It battled the discord of Melkor.   
  
"Melkor's theme then rose up again, but this time Eru wove a different melody. It was loud and, together with the first, took over Melkor's. This was the Last-born, Men."  
  
Aragorn exhaled. "After Arda was shaped by eleven Ainur and their servants, called Maia, Melkor attacked the Valar's city. By this time he was known as Morgoth. He had many fell servants, but his most deadly was Sauron, an evil Maia.  
  
"During the wars of the Valar, it was clear that to escape Morgoth's treachery, they had to mark themselves so that the evil one could not impersonate any of them. Stars for the Valar, moons for the Maia, and for the imperial messengers -- lightning. The messengers traveled between Middle-earth and the realm of the Valar, carrying messages, secrets, and news for the armies of elves and men. Many were captured and killed. They also had tremendous strength in magic and sorcery. It was they who trained the wizards."  
  
Pausing, Aragorn went on after studying Harry for a moment. "I do not know why you have the imperial mark, but you must have some mission to do for the Valar. This is why Saruman and Sauron are desperate to find you and most likely kill you. They do not want you to carry out your task."  
  
"Hold on just a minute," Harry interrupted. "If I were a messenger of these Valar, wouldn't I know why I was here? And anyway, it's not an imperial mark. I've had it since I was a baby."  
  
"The Valar may have took you from your world for just this reason. You have their mark -- perhaps it was meant to be. You are a sorcerer, a strong one. What else could the reason be for this?"  
  
"I'm not a messenger," Harry said vehemently. "I just want to go home."  
  
"Harry," Aragorn said, "I still have something of great importance for you to hear." Harry sat back and closed his mouth, all of a sudden getting depressing and homesick. Aragorn continued.  
  
"About nineteen years ago, when the Ri was still unknown and in the Shire, a council had gathered in Lothlorien, much like the one at Rivendell. However, this council of elves had not gathered to discuss the Ring or Sauron. We had come to decide what to do about a strange girl that had appeared, much like you.   
  
  
  
"She was about ten years your elder, or she looked so. We did not know who she was until she revealed that she was a witch. Not as powerful as Gandalf, or you, however. I believe her name was Katherine Thatcher. Or at least that's what she called herself."  
  
The name didn't strike any remembrance with Harry.  
  
"We never did figure out who she was. She appeared to be concerned with our problems, and offered to help. Gandalf took her on to teach her, and she helped us greatly. But after a some months, we noticed change. She became very sickly, and complained of stomach pains. According to her, they were, at first, few and far apart, but became closer and closer together until she had them nearly constantly. And at the end of a year, she died during one of them."  
  
Harry had frozen in disbelief when Aragorn mentioned the pains. He stared at the ranger in shock.  
  
"Harry, if you have these -- pains -- tell me. I cannot promise you that we can get you home but maybe we can find out how to stop it."  
  
I can't let them know, Harry thought. They have lots of things to worry about -- the least of all is me. Besides, I'm fine. It was probably just something I ate.  
  
"I'm fine," he said hollowly. It sounded like a lie even to himself. "There's nothing wrong with me."  
  
Aragorn looked slightly doubtful. "All right, young wizard. There are other...matters...we need to discuss but I will leave that up to Gandalf. First, we must travel to Isenguard." He paused. "You...will come, won't you?"   
  
  
  
Harry lowered his eyes and tried desperately not to think of his short time in the tower. "Why wouldn't I?" he mumbled.  
  
Aragorn sounded kind. "No reason, Harry. Just be ready by sunrise tomorrow. We have four horses, so you may ride with myself or Legolas." He smiled and spoke again even before Harry opened his mouth. "I will tell Legolas, then." Harry looked up in surprise but the ranger was gone.  
  
Harry put his elbows on his knees and lowered his head. Katherine, what happened to you? he wondered. Will I die here too?  
  
_______________________________  
  
"You told him, didn't you?"  
  
Aragorn sighed. "Legolas, he had to know --"  
  
"You think that telling him would change anything?" Legolas said angrily. "How do you know that the same thing is even happening to Harry?" Legolas clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.  
  
"I saw it in his eyes, Legolas. He knows. However --"  
  
"He'll give up, Aragorn. If he knows that his death is near, do you think that he will even try to survive? How could you do this to him?"  
  
Aragorn held up a hand in supplication. "Legolas, please!" The elf snapped his mouth shut and glared with red-rimmed, tired eyes at Aragorn. "I may have figured out a way to get him safe and get him home."   
  
"Tell me. Now."  
  
"I do not know if this is the best time to talk about this, Legolas. We will have to talk about it later with Gandalf. He knows more about this than you or I. Besides, you need some rest; we leave for Orthanc in the morning."  
  
Legolas's proud shoulders slumped, his hair falling down around his face as he bowed his head forward. The facade of determination left him. "I am...tired," he admitted in a low voice. "I cannot stop worrying about him, Aragorn. As much as I do not want him to die...I do not know if I can bear it when he leaves." His voice grew fainter.   
  
Aragorn put his hand on Legolas's shoulder, suprised when Legolas collapsed against him. "Sleep, Legolas. We will find a way to save him, I swear it."   
  
Legolas looked at Aragorn with empty eyes. "As Arwen wastes away when you leave her, so will I when he is gone." His face lowered again, pressing against Aragorn's shoulder, and a shudder ran through his lithe frame. "If he dies, Aragorn, I will follow him." Aragorn said nothing, holding the elf tighter and praying for a way to save Harry.  
  
Unknown to them, a pair of green eyes watched from the safety of the trees.  
  
_______________________________  
  
** This is the history of Arda, found in the Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien. 


	13. Running Away

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Thirteen: Running Away  
  
By Capella no da  
  
A/N: Thanks to OddBallSlasher-thanks for the IM :) Sorry I couldn't respond but next time I'm on I'll try and thank you ^_~  
  
I've got one thing to say -- to one of the reviewers, 'me'. I like to get constructive criticism. But the way you said that was extremely rude. As a matter of fact, I have read the Silmarillion. That is why I put all that stuff about the Silmarillion in my last chapter. I told you that I am not sticking EXACTLY to the plotline. I'm a diehard Tolkien fan, but this is FANfiction. NOT written by Tolkien, not exactly like the books. So, deal.  
  
As usual, dedicated to my reviewers.   
  
____________________  
  
"I did enough to show you that I   
  
was willing to give and sacrifice  
  
and I was the one who was lifting you up  
  
when you thought your life had had enough  
  
when I get close, you turn away  
  
nothing that I can do or say  
  
so now I need you to tell me the truth  
  
you know I would do that for you..."  
  
-- Hoobastank, "Running Away"  
  
Numbly, Harry turned away from the scene in front of him and sat down hard on the dirt floor of the forest, resting his forehead on his knees. He ran his hands through inky black hair and shut his eyes tightly.  
  
If I leave, I kill him.  
  
A tear fell onto the forest floor before Harry could wipe it away and he stared at it in near despair, watching as it soaked slowly into the ground.   
  
If I stay, I die. And then he'll die as well.  
  
"Why me?" he whispered, looking up through the tangle of tree limbs to the slowly darkening sky beyond. There was no answer.   
  
He slowly got up and went next to the dying fire, curling up and trying his best to fall asleep.  
  
  
  
An hour or two later found Harry lying on his back, staring up at the twinkling stars. He remembered a conversation he and Legolas had back in Rivendell, before they'd left -  
  
~"Do you see that, Harry? It's the Sickle of the Valar, set by Elbereth. She set it there as a challenge to Melkor, those seven stars."  
  
"What does that mean?" He remembered Legolas's twinkling gray eyes as he'd looked down at Harry, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders in an almost bittersweet embrace.  
  
  
  
"It's a sign that no matter what, the night will be overcome. Never forget that, Harry."~  
  
I've got to find a way to save him, Harry thought desperately. Maybe I could...if I just acted distant...he'd forget he ever loved me?   
  
Hearing the soft, barely there footfalls behind him, Harry shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep, praying that the elf would leave.   
  
I don't want to hurt you, Legolas.  
  
  
  
"Harry, we have to leave." A pale hand touched his shoulder, shaking him gently. Avoiding Legolas's eyes, Harry opened his eyes slowly and started to get up. "Gandalf told me that you're to ride with me to Isengard. We...I'm glad you stayed." Legolas lifted Harry's chin and looked into his eyes, his own gray ones saying everything that he couldn't.   
  
Whatever protest Harry was about to make fled his mind when Legolas pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, gripping Harry's shoulders and pulling him closer. Harry froze in shock.  
  
Legolas backed up, near-panic showing on his face before being smothered by sadness. "Harry, I'm sorry, I -" He looked away, blonde hair covering his face for a moment. "We should get going. Follow me." He whirled around and silently ran through the green foliage. Harry stared after him for a long while before following with a heavy heart.  
  
____________________  
  
"How far to Isengard?" Harry said loudly over the pounding of hooves. The arms wrapped around Legolas's waist tightened for a second. His voice betrayed the fear of either Saruman or the horse, Legolas wasn't sure which.  
  
The elf smiled slightly. "Only a few hours, Harry." It was useless to hold conversation when Legolas was sure that Harry could barely hear a word he said.  
  
Suddenly, the grip on his waist tightened hard, fine tremors passing through Harry's body pressed up against Legolas's back. Then, just as suddenly, the arms let go.  
  
  
  
God, not now! Harry thought in despair as he felt the first wave of horrible pain rip through him, grabbing his insides and reducing it to what felt like a fiery mass writhing in his stomach. His whimper was drowned out by the wind and the hooves and with a feeling of hopelessness, Harry let go and felt himself fall.  
  
He hit the ground rolling but was barely aware of the rocks scraping his cheek, nor the pain of landing. He curled up in a ball, panting into the dust beneath his head as he fiercely fought for his consciousness. His eyes were clenched shut, trying desperately to keep the tears from dropping. Faintly, he heard hoofbeats, then a soft sound as someone dropped to their knees beside him. He couldn't help the cry that escaped his lips when someone touched him on the forehead. His whole body erupted with pain.  
  
"Don't. Touch. Me," he whispered. He felt the hand draw back.  
  
"Harry?" Legolas said softly, worrying, as he tried to pick Harry up. Harry tried futilely to keep in a scream.  
  
"Your. touch. *hurts*. me." He stiffened, willing the fire coursing through his body to go away. The insistent, painful hands left his body, and Harry could breathe for a moment before the next wave of pain hit. He noted, as his stomach felt like it was ripped apart, that the pain was worse than the last one. Gritting his teeth to keep the cries in, he willed himself to remain conscious. Then slowly, as always, the pain began to reluctantly recede and let go of his body. He was left lying in the grass and dirt, eyes still tightly squeezed together. A tentative hand touched his shoulder.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?" Aragorn asked softly. Harry shakily pushed himself to his feet.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"You fool!" Legolas said suddenly, surprising Harry with the vehemence in his voice. "For the love of the Light, Harry -- you're dying." His hands cupped Harry's face, searching his eyes, and Harry could have sworn he saw the glittering of tears. "You're dying," he whispered again. Harry tore his head out of Legolas's grip and looked at the ground, tried to keep the tears back.  
  
"Leave it be, Legolas," Gandalf said, startling them. "We have time against us, and we must speed to Isengard." Legolas nodded silently, mounting his horse and beckoning for Harry to do the same. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.  
  
It was at the broken gates of Isengard when Harry began to lose his nerve.  
  
  
  
He'd been watching the black tower appear from the horizon for a while, but now, with the gleaming stones only a few hundred yards away, Harry could feel panic grip him tightly, breath coming faster and hands shaking.  
  
~"I daresay you should be careful. The creatures down there are not adverse to manflesh."~  
  
Harry shivered despite the bright sun, caught in memories he didn't want, of sharp teeth and hot, fetid breath down his neck, bloodlust shining all too clear in yellow eyes.  
  
~"He says that he doesn't if he wants to eat the pretty mortal or fuck him."   
  
"Y-you can't--"  
  
"Yes, I can, little Valar, and if you don't obey me, you'll find yourself entertaining these Orcs very soon. And I don't know if even you can survive that. I'm sure after a good fuck they get very hungry."~  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. I'm strong. I can do this and Saruman has no power over me. I'm just as strong as he is.   
  
In an attempt to take his mind off the threatening shadow that was growing in his mind, he asked Legolas where the Riders of Rohan that Gandalf had told him about were.  
  
"They are already here," Legolas answered. "When it was apparent that you had been captured, Gandalf sent them ahead so he could come and save you."  
  
Despite the destraction, Harry began to shake almost uncontrollably as Legolas's horse stopped by two small figures. He paid them no attention, his eyes riveted on the tower. Only when the figure's voices intruded on the haze covering Harry's thoughts did he look down.  
  
"Merry?" he gasped. "Pippin!"  
  
The two hobbits laughed merrily. "So you've decided to join us, Master Harry!" Pippin said gaily. And it was then that Harry saw his surroundings, and realized the destruction all around him. The whole ring around the tower was filled with bubbling, hissing water, wreckage floating aimlessly in the muddy water. Harry heaved a sigh of relief that the horrible pits where he had been were flooded. He noticed belatedly that Gandalf had already ridden off, and only he, Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn were left.  
  
As they dismounted to sit near the hobbits, Harry let his mind wander from the conversation. He gazed up at the tower, feeling flickers of discontentment deep in the pit of his stomach. Can I face Saruman? he thought uneasily, fancying that he saw a drawn, gaunt face in one of the upper windows before it vanished.   
  
"Who did all this?" he asked absently. He didn't realize that he had spoken out loud until Merry replied.  
  
"It was Treebeard, and his Ents. They were madly furious when they got here from the Entmoot, and just began tearing everything down." He laughed at Harry's quizzical look. "I'm sure you'll see some Ents sooner or later."  
  
Suddenly Harry swayed a little, the days of little sleep and pain catching up to him. Pippin noticed and took pity.   
  
"Let us get you to somewhere you can rest, Harry. I'm sure the others want luncheon anyway - at least I do. Guarding is hard work!"  
  
  
  
The hobbits led the others under an arch and to a door at the top of a staircase. In it was a large chamber, a hearth, and a chimney. There was a fire lit on the hearth. In a corner were two makeshift pallets.  
  
Harry went to one and collapsed, head spinning from exhaustion. Almost immediately he was asleep.   
  
He came awake not an hour later to a hand shaking his shoulder.  
  
"We're going to go take a look at Isengard, Harry." Pippin sat back on his heels. "Do you want to come?"  
  
Harry felt the familiar clutch of panic send tremors through his body. I have to do this, he thought desperately. I have to do this or the nightmares -- the memories -- will never leave me. He got up on surprisingly steady legs, following Legolas out the door.   
  
As they stood upon a heap of rocks, they could see figures picking their way through the waste, heading for the tower.  
  
"There is Gandalf, and Theoden, and his men!" Legolas said. "Let us go and meet them!" He cast a searching look to Harry, gray eyes asking permission. Wearily, Harry nodded.  
  
"Walk warily! There are loose slabs that may tilt up and throw you down into a pit, if you don't take care." Harry's stomach lurched at Merry's words, knowing all too well just what was in those dark pits.  
  
As they approached the men, the riders paused to let them catch up. Gandalf came forward to meet them.   
  
"Well, Treebeard and I have had some interesting discussions, and made a few plans, and have had some much needed rest. Now we must be going on again. I hope you have all rested too?"  
  
"We have," Merry said, "But our discussions began and ended in smoke. Still, we feel less ill-disposed toward Saruman than we did." Speak for yourself, Harry thought, glancing up at the looming dark tower.  
  
"Do you indeed? Well, I do not. I must pay Saruman a farewell visit." Immediately, Harry's face turned ghostly pale. Gandalf didn't notice. "Dangerous, and probably useless, but it must be done. Those of you who wish may come with me - but beware! And do not jest! This is not the time for it."  
  
"What's the danger? Will he shoot at us, and pour fire out of the windows; or can he put a spell on us from a distance?" Pippin asked.  
  
"The last is most likel if you ride to his door with a light heart," said Gandalf. "But there is no knowing what he can do, or may choose to try. A wild beast cornered is not safe to approach. And Saruman has powers you cannot guess. Beware of his voice!"  
  
Harry forced himself to stop trembling as they finally came to the foot of Orthanc. He knew it all too well; black and chiseled, with a great door high above the ground on the eastern side. Over it was a shuttered window, opening upon a balcony hedged with iron bars. Up to the door were twenty-seven stairs. Harry fought not to remember his flight not so long ago down those same steps. Gandalf and Theoden dismounted.  
  
"I will go up," Gandalf said. "I have been in Orthanc and I know of my peril."   
  
"And I too will go up," said Theoden. "I am old, and fear no peril anymore. Eomer shall come with me, and see that my feet do not falter."  
  



	14. Stand Alone

Shadow of a Doubt   
  
Chapter Fourteen: Stand Alone  
  
A/N (August 6th) - *raises arms and dances around cheering) I got the DVD of LOTR today! Watched it twice, and watched most of the other stuff twice too ^_^   
  
I'm very very happy to say that the writer's block that held me captive for the last month is GONE! I couldn't think of how exactly to do something, and then I got some much needed inspiration that just thumped me on the head, so thank you to theonering.net: The Green Book! You're my savior ^_~  
  
And also thank you to Dark Hikari Kamiya for the idea help. I don't need it now, I think, but if I do you'll be the first to know.  
  
Remember to review, please! It's my waybread of writing. :)  
  
__________________________  
  
"I stand alone   
  
Feeling your sting down inside of me   
  
I'm not dying for it   
  
I stand alone   
  
Everything that I believe is fading   
  
I stand alone."  
  
-Godsmack  
  
__________________________  
  
The hard rapping of Gandalf's staff on the doors of Orthanc echoed through the barren waste of Isengard. "Saruman, Saruman!" the wizard said loudly, the tone in his voice said that he expected Saruman to appear immediately. "Come forth, Saruman!" His voice was somehow amplified even louder and that echoed also, until what seemed like a hundred voices called Saruman out. A strange sort of calm had settled on Harry, now; it felt like he had somehow been removed from his body, and that he was watching someone else stand impassively, clutching a narrow wand in a white-knuckled fist.  
  
No answer came for some time, and Harry began to think that maybe Saruman wouldn't come at all. He couldn't tell whether he felt relief or disappointment. He thought he felt both.  
  
"Who is it?" a sniveling voice said from above. "What do you wish?"  
  
In front of him, Theoden started and looked angrily at the window where the voice had come from. "I know that voice, and I curse the day when I first listened to it."  
  
"Go and fetch Saruman, since you have become his footman, Grima Wormtongue!" Gandalf said. Harry faintly remembered Gandalf telling him about Wormtongue sometime after he was rescued from the tower. "And do not waste our time!"  
  
There was a faint hiss from the window, and it closed. Not even a minute after, another voice spoke, ringing like bells through the courtyard, its very sound an enchantment. Harry remembered that voice and he hated it with all his soul, but for some reason he could not quite remember now what Saruman had said to him, in that small room in Orthanc. The memory of it seemed fuzzy and somewhat distorted to him, now. Seeing the rapt faces of the men around him, their mouths hanging slightly open and awe clear in their eyes, Harry thanked Varda that he had been able to resist.   
  
Wait, who was Varda?  
  
The voice spoke again, and Harry didn't have time to think about Varda, or anything, as the soft tone tried to worm its way into his consciousness. It beckoned with a sweetness not unlike the Imperius.   
  
"Well? Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?" The tone in spoke in as it wove its enchantment was that of a kindly heart grieved by insult undeserved.  
  
He saw the heads of the men around him whip up and stare at the balcony, which now had an old man in a strangely coloured cloak. His long face had deepset, twinkling eyes that stared out at them all, and they projected an air of kindness and weariness. His hair and beard were white, but strands of black showed around his lips and ears.   
  
Gimli muttered something that Harry barely heard. "Like, and yet unlike." For a moment Harry wondered what he meant.  
  
"But come now," Saruman murmured softly again. "Three of you I know by name. Gandalf I know too well to have much hope that he seeks help of counsel here." Saruman stopped, obviously debating on whether to reveal that he did know of Harry. His dark eyes passed over to Theoden with only what seemed like a moment's pause. "But you, Theoden Lord of the Mark of Rohan, are declared by your noble devices, and still more by the fair countenance of the house of Eorl. Why have you not come before as a friend? Much have I desired to see you, mightiest king of the western lands, and especially in these latter years, to save you from the unwise and evil counsels that beset you. Is it yet too late? Still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that draws nigh, if you ride upon this road which you have taken. Indeed I alone can aid you now." Those eyes remained on Theoden, but Harry could feel the weight of Saruman's regard, wondering if he was a potential threat. Olorin always had said that Saruman was a shrewd foe, if threatened.  
  
Harry shook his head a little, trying to clear the fog that had descended upon his vision when that thought crossed his mind. Unbidden, random thoughts of Olorin rose in his mind; that Olorin loved to walk with the Elves unseen. That Olorin had hair black as night. That when Olorin laughed, the sun broke out from behind the clouds.  
  
Is this some spell? Harry thought desperately. I've never been here in my life. How could I know this Olorin as if he were my brother...or lover?  
  
He came back to himself when Eomer's voice broke through his thought. "...stand at last amazed by an old lair with honey on his forked tongue? So would the trapped wolf speak to the hounds, if he could. What aid can he give to you? All he desires is to escape from his plight. But will you parley with this dealer in treachery and murder? Remember Theodred at the Ford and the grave of Hama at Helm's Deep!"  
  
Harry lost the string of conversation as he tuned out the talking again, and as thoughts that were not his ran through his mind. That Uinen loved the creatures of the sea as she loved her husband, Osse. How Osse had sometimes too hot of blood. That Melian loved to sing when she walked through the trees. That Osse had a long scar down his arm from the war with Morgoth. How beautiful Ilmare was. For some reason, her somehow familiar lovely face filled Harry with a detached sort of sorrow.  
  
Gods, get out of my head! Harry cried to himself, trying to push the thoughts away, but they would not leave; dozens of shining faces flashed through his head along with small thoughts that somehow spoke of loneliness. He was not aware of how long he stood there, staring at the steps, but he felt a nudge on his shoulder and looked sideways into the beautiful gray eyes of Legolas. The elf's brows were furrowed and he looked at Harry with confusion, obviously wondering why Harry had been gazing at nothing with a blank look in his eyes. Harry shook his head helplessly.  
  
He caught the conversation again, looking up to find Saruman filled with fury as Gandalf continued speaking. Obviously, he was offering terms of release, ones that Saruman didn't like.  
  
"...you will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc, and your staff. They shall be pledges of your conduct, to be returned later, if you merit them."  
  
Saruman's face twisted with rage, and a strange light was in his eyes; his voice raised to a scream when he replied: "Later! Yes, when you also have the Keys of Barad-dur itself, I suppose; and the crowns of seven kings, and the rods of the Five Wizards, and have purchased yourself a pair of boots many sizes larger than those that you wear now. A modest plan. Do not be a fool. If you wish to treat with me, while you have a chance, go away, and come back when you are sober! And leave behind these cut-throats and rag-tag at that dangle at your tail! Good day!" Harry closed his eyes as another wave of someone else's thought hit him, and when he opened his eyes again, nothing that was Harry Potter looked out on the world.  
  
"Saruman Istari!"  
  
The voice that burst from Harry's throat was not his own. It had two qualities, like two bells of different pitch ringing together; one high and one low, blending perfectly. Harry had no idea what an Istari was, but that didn't matter, for Saruman stopped and turned around, staring at him with amazement and...recognition?  
  
  
  
"You shall come back. I did not give you leave to go." Harry's voice was steel now, each ringing word was a command. Saruman turned, and came slowly back to the rail, breathing hard. His hand clutched his heavy black staff like a claw.  
  
"You have not only disgraced yourself, but you have disgraced your Order, and you have turned your back on Eru, may his name ever be praised. Sauron is a dangerous master, Istari, and not one to be taken lightly, but I serve the Lord of the Breath of Arda, ruler of this realm. Him have you disobeyed, and he is displeased. You have been sent to be a servant, but you seek to be a master. Your greed has consumed you as if you had a Silmaril in your grasp; you are fit no longer to be an Istari; you have no color, and you are cast from the order and the Council. You shall no longer be called a Maia, but a thrall in the service of one who shall be defeated. The first of all Kings casts you out!" Harry raised his right hand, and clenched it into a fist. "Saruman, your staff is broken."  
  
Saruman's staff split in half with a loud snap, the head of it falling down at Gandalf's feet. Saruman fell back and crawled away with a broken cry.  
  
  
  
"Go!" Harry said, his voice like a crack of thunder. He ignored the faces turned to him in amazement.  
  
A heavy shining thing came hurtling down from above, glancing off the iron rail and breaking it, passing close to Gandalf's head. The ball rolled down the steps, a globe of black crystal, but glowing with a heart of fire. As it bounded towards a pool of water, Pippin ran after it and picked it up.  
  
Suddenly it was as if all the breath had left Harry, and he was left teetering on the edge of awareness, feeling as if he had just been knocked in the head with a hammer. He could barely remember what had just happened, save that it was not him who had been speaking.  
  
His legs gave out from beneath him and he crumpled to the step beneath him, his last vestage of thought before he passed out of consiousness wondering if he would ever wake up again.  
  
______________________  
  
"I think they are done, Merry. Rag-tag! Can you believe it?"  
  
Merry looked up at the top of the stairs, and it did appear that they had finished, for Saruman was nowhere in sight. He let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Who was that talking, anyways?" he asked. "I did not regonize the voice, Pippin, but it sounded so..." He couldn't quite think of the right word to say; beautiful would be the best word to describe it. It had been hard to tell if it had been male or female, but Merry figured that it had to be someone up there, and they were all male. Pippin shrugged and bit into his apple.  
  
Merry and Pippin started to look up in surprise at the top of the stairs when they heard a loud thumping noise; a large orb of the darkest crystal. It rolled off, and Pippin raced after it to catch it before it went into the pool of water. Merry stood up to go after him, but was suddenly knocked off his feet by a large, warm object. For a moment it lay on top of him, obscuring his vision, but somehow Merry pushed it off and got to his feet again. His eyes widened.  
  
"Harry?" he said, kneeling down by where the wizard lay, eyes closed. He was so ghostly pale that for a moment Merry thought he was dead. He lay his head carefully on top of Harry's chest, and was relieved to feel a heartbeat throb under him; Harry's slender chest rose and fell very slowly with labored breaths. As Merry pulled away, he could have sworn that he felt an ice-cold breeze blow past his face.  
  
Suddenly Harry bolted up, his head knocking against Merry's with a loud smack; Merry fell back from where he was crouching to his bottom, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead that was sure to leave a bruise.  
  
"Sorry, Merry," Harry said apologetically, a dazed look in his green eyes. Merry figured it was just from the collision. When he heard the thick accent in Harry's voice, the hobbit ruled out Harry from being the one who was speaking to Saruman. That voice had an accent not unlike an Elf's, like bells and flowing water.  
  
Merry frowned and leaned forward.  
  
"Harry, your eyes --" he said, squinting his eyes to make sure what he saw wasn't some trick of the sunlight.   
  
Harry looked anxious, his black eyebrows furrowing in worry. "What? What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know -- for a moment your eyes looked all shimmery and silver." Merry leaned forward again. Whatever had made Harry's eyes look different was gone. "And you've got something on your forehead, right here." Merry pointed to right below his hairline. Harry rubbed vigorously at his head.   
  
"Gone?"  
  
"No, it's -- right here, Harry. It looks like a -- a moon, or something." Merry leaned back frowning, trying to remember exactly when Harry had gotten a moon-shaped scar. "Have you always had that? Harry?"   
  
Harry jumped a little when Merry said his name, his eyes looking not just a little like a horse after it got spooked; with a small gasp, Harry leapt up and ran off without another word.  
  
Merry blinked. That was strange, he thought to himself, and was in the middle of trying to work things out in his mind when Pippin called for him. He started off for the little circle of people in front of Saruman's stairs, still wondering about exactly when Harry had received another scar.  
  
_________________________ 


	15. Lose Yourself

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Fifteen: Lose Yourself  
  
by Capella no da  
  
A/N: Finally :) Another day, another chapter - I've decided that I really, really need some more slash-ness in here. For a slash story, it really doesn't have all that much.   
  
Wow...162 reviews! *glomps reviewers* You guys are the greatest, honestly ^_^ You really know how to make a girl happy :D You know what would be REALLY cool? If I got to 180! I know, I know...only twenty more! Come on you guys, I'll do something *cool* in my next chapter if you do! ^_^  
  
Next, thank you very much Thornangel for the nice email *beams* That sort of got me off my lazy bum to finish this chapter. So thank you!   
  
I need to thank some more people real quick, since this is sort of the huge thank you note for all the chapter so far. I won't go through ALL my reviewers, but I do very much want to thank the people who review almost/every single chapter. So, to Pheonix, Kilohana, Thornangel, Aleydis, Gia2, Alchemy, Dark Hikari Kamiya, RJLL, Lady Bisenshi, Icefire, Basilisk, Silent Stalker, M14Mouse, and Sorceress Jade - the biggest thank you in the entire world. You guys were there since the VERY beginning, and I hope you'll be there til the bitter end. I don't know quite how to thank you guys enough so - I hope this'll do :)  
  
And Verok - I thought about what you said, and I appreciate it and I see where you're coming from. The only thing is - as good of a writer as Tolkien was- I don't want to be him exactly. I want to write in my own style, though it can sound a little forced or choppy sometimes. It's the only way to get better, you know? I need to have my own voice in my writing, even if it's not as good as Tolkien's But thank you for the advice!  
  
Lastly, to Sara...you just totally whammied me upside the head! *grins* Up until this point, I had honestly just forgotten about Voldemort. Woohoo, another reason for angst! And ya'll have Sara to thank for it *grins* By the way, those ideas are lovely, especially the staff thing. And I'd do some of that stuff but...well, you'll see. ^_~  
  
Alright, I've seen other authors do this so I've decided to, also - I'm going to start a little mailing list thing. All you need to do is put your name down when you review or email me, and I'll put you on. Every time I update my story, I'll send you an email. If you want off, just tell me.   
  
I'm really, really very sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. It won't happen again, i promise! I'm doing chapters within at least *2 weeks* of each other. PROMISE!  
  
Review please! Because yesterday was my birthday! *grins*   
  
____________________________  
  
Look, if you had once shot, one opportunity  
  
To seize everything you ever wanted...one moment  
  
Would you capture it or just let it slip?...  
  
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment  
  
You own it, you better never let it go  
  
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow it  
  
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime  
  
-Eminem (yes, you heard me right, it just fit), "Lose Yourself"   
  
____________________________  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
Harry's face had been lit by the slowly setting sun Legolas had found him sitting on a blackened stone away from everyone, his legs drawn up to his chest and his head on his knees. Now the Sickle of the Valar was high and bright in the darkened sky, only then did Legolas realize how long he'd been standing there. Harry's face was dark in the fading light but Legolas could make out the green glitter of his eyes behind his glasses and the stubborn set of his jaw. There was a long silence before Harry replied.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Legolas very nearly sighed. "I want to talk to you, Harry. Please."  
  
There was a pause, then Harry's head turned toward Legolas and he motioned to the spot next to him. He turned back away once Legolas sat.  
  
Now that he was so close to Harry, Legolas forgot his carefully worded speech that he had thought about all day and for a moment could only stare at Harry's beautiful profile, wanting to run his fingers through the thick black hair.   
  
"Legolas. You wanted something."  
  
It was more of a command than a question, and laced through the words was barely concealed impatience. All rational thought fled Legolas's head.  
  
"By the Valar, Harry, what is the matter with you?" he said, and regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. They didn't produce quite the reaction he had expected, however.  
  
"I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me." He tugged on a black forelock that hung in his eyes, voice getting more and more hysterical. He added a whispered "we're both fine" almost as an afterthought. Legolas reached out a hand and touched Harry's cheek gently.  
  
  
  
"Harry, what -"  
  
"Who was -- is Ilmare?" Harry said abruptly, turning his eyes back down to his feet and leaning away from Legolas's hand. Unsurprised, Legolas turned Harry's head back toward him, looking Harry in the eyes and stroking his lower lip with a bow callused thumb.  
  
"I have never been to the everlasting city of Valinor, but even I know who Ilmare is. She is the handmaiden of Varda, and it is said among my people that she is next to Varda in beauty and gentleness." Suddenly, Legolas frowned in thought, his thumb pausing in its rhythmic caress. "How is that you know of Ilmare?"  
  
Harry's eyes looked scared now, cornered, like a spooked horse. He didn't seem to be able to pull his head away. "I...I heard Gandalf talking about her. Yesterday," he said hesitantly, his mouth moving whisper-soft against Legolas's fingers until he finally looked away.  
  
Legolas said nothing, knowing the lie even as it came out of Harry's mouth. He let the overwhelming silence between them stretch on until Harry shifted under Legolas's hard gray gaze.  
  
"I know who she is," Harry said softly, "and I know her like I'd know my own sister. I...today..." He trailed off, obviously struggling for words. "Christ! You heard me! I was standing there and all the sudden I wasn't me. It seemed like - like someone else just took over my body and my memories and my voice, because that wasn't me talking. I saw - all these people that I haven't ever met, but they seem so familiar to me...I feel like I've met and loved them all..." He worried his lower lip with even white teeth while looking terribly lost.  
  
At that moment all the thoughts that Legolas was about to say flew from his mind, and raising Harry's head with a hand, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Harry's. When Harry didn't respond, Legolas opened his eyes to see Harry staring back at him with a dazed look on his face, and smiling softly Legolas leaned in for another kiss.  
  
It wasn't anything like the tentative kisses of before; this one was slow and sweet as Legolas stole the breath from Harry's body. He could feel Harry's knees start to give out and he wound his arms around Harry's waist to hold him up. Harry broke away, eyes wide and scared.  
  
"I can't -"  
  
Legolas was suddenly more angry than he had ever been in his long life. "You can, Harry, what I believe you mean is that you will not. You are more frightened than I have ever seen you be, and that is why you are running away," he said vehemently. Harry opened his mouth, angry, to protest, but Legolas cut him off sharply. "You *are* running away. Do not try and tell me that you are not."  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, offence clearly in his tone. "I've got a lover, if I forgot to tell you." It was clearly said to sting, and it did.   
  
"You believe you will ever go home?" Legolas shot back, feeling slightly guilty when Harry's face paled and his fists clenched until his knuckles went white.   
  
"Shut up!" Harry yelled. "Just...shut up! I'm going to go home. I'm..." His voice choked up and he collapsed against Legolas's chest, pressing his face into Legolas's soft gray shirt with dry, heaving sobs tearing out of his throat. Tanned hands twisted in the thick fabric as Legolas stroked Harry's black hair gently.  
  
"I want to go home." Harry whispered with heart-breaking simplicity, staring up at Legolas desperately and clutching Legolas's shirt closer like a lifeline. "Please."  
  
Legolas surpressed a slight stab of irrational jealousy, wanting Harry to think of this as his home, wanting him to be the reason that Harry wanted to stay. Wanting nothing more than for love to keep Harry in Middle-earth.  
  
"Make it go away."  
  
Legolas started and stared down at Harry with surprise. Emerald eyes gazed up at Legolas and he saw no hesitation or remorse as Harry leaned up and placed a light kiss on his lips.  
  
"Harry - are you sure -"  
  
Harry smiled with a hint of smugness as he reached up and wrapped his arms around Legolas's neck, bringing the elf down to him. "Now who's running?" he whispered, and Legolas, entranced by the feel of Harry's lips moving against his own, was helpless to do anything but lean down and kiss him back. Legolas nibbled gently on Harry's full bottom lip in a wordless request and Harry complied, opening his mouth and letting the soft fulless of Legolas's tongue slip in. Little slivers of sensation began dancing their way up Legolas's spine, chills spreading over his body. Every part of him seemed oversensitized, and he was acutely aware of Harry's hands tangled in his hair.  
  
Harry broke away panting for breath. "Is everyone asleep?" he murmered between great gulps for air.  
  
"Yes, but -"  
  
Smiling wickedly, Harry gently pushed Legolas down onto his back. "Good."  
  
________________________  
  
The next morning dawned grey and gloomy, the dark rainclouds hovering so close overhead that it almost seemed they were within reach. A strong wind had picked up in the middle of the night sometime, and Harry hugged his cloak tighter around his body, shivering.  
  
He had woken that morning alone, which would have been an insult if he hadn't been aware of the escape of Saruman that Legolas was probably worried about. Hearing Merry and Pippin talk about it that morning, he had felt that strange feeling he had the day before, that maybe there was someone else sharing his body. It had passed nearly as soon as it had come over him.  
  
During the night he'd had two more pain attacks.  
  
They were getting closer together now, more violent and horrible. Harry shuddered and clutched his cloak, imagining that he was feeling the stirrings of fire in his stomach again. But he waited, and it passed, just the ghost of pain.  
  
He was sitting on the black steps of Orthanc, looking at the bloody White Hand, when Gandalf came over to talk to him.  
  
"Harry, are you all right?"  
  
Harry let out a long-suffering sigh. This conversation seemed vaguely familiar somehow. "I'm fine, Gandalf, thanks," he said lightly, trying not to be rude because it really wasn't Gandalf's fault that Legolas had left him before he'd woken up. Which was, now that Harry thought about it, rather rude.  
  
"You are sure?" Gandalf asked.  
  
"Yes, I'm-"  
  
The end of his sentance broke off in a gasp as he experianced the strange feeling that someone had reached a hand down his throat and squeezed all the air out of his lungs. He doubled over as soon as the first pang shot through him, from his toes to the top of his head. Fingers of pain were digging into his body viciously and Harry shut his eyes tightly, clutching his stomach. He was sure he was making the most embarrassing noises, but at the moment, nothing but the fiery pain running up and down his nerves mattered.  
  
Sitting up became too much for his body to take, and he fell off the step onto the cold ground with his knees to his chest. He couldn't help the sharp cry that was torn from his throat as a particularly bad spike of pain shot through him. And, just like the other attacks, it stopped as suddenly as it had started.  
  
"You are fine, are you." It wasn't a question. Harry opened his mouth to protest that yes, he was fine in fact, when Gandalf continued. "Do you know what it is I saw before you closed your eyes? They had a coating of silver."  
  
Something in Gandalf's voice sounded strange, a little touch of sadness, but different than before. It was like a doctor about to announce a patient's uncurable disease. "You know what's wrong with me."  
  
Gandalf sighed, face unreadable. "I do know what is wrong with you, young wizard. But I am not quite sure if I am correct. I am not willing to reveal anything right now to you, not until I have a more perfect understanding of what is happening to you."   
  
"What kind of shit wisdom is that?" he demanded angrily, glaring at Gandalf. "If I'm going to die then just tell me, instead of letting me sit here and rot over it."  
  
Gandalf didn't reply and looked troubled. Without another word, the wizard stood up and walked off in the general direction of Treebeard and the others. Harry attempted to glare a hole in the back of his head. He assumed the reason that it didn't work had something to do with the fact that he knew he'd forgotten something.  
  
The feeling had been bothering him for a few days, the kind of feeling he got when he forgot to do some sort of homework but didn't remember what class it was for. Try as he might, whatever it was he forgot was gone.  
  
Harry got up slowly from the stone steps, deciding to take a walk to see if he couldn't clear his head and maybe find Legolas in the process. However, while walking around camp and staring at the grey stratus overhead, he felt his foot catch on something and went sprawling over the rocky ground. One of his hands was skinned from the fall and he was sure from the spreading wetness that he had took some skin off his knee, too.   
  
He twisted back around to see what he had tripped over and found himself staring at two pairs of sleepy, brown hobbit eyes.   
  
"Isn't it a little late to be sleeping in, you two? And why in the world were you sleeping out here, instead of inside?" he asked absently. They were sleeping awfully close, under one blanket, and was Pippin wearing a shirt?  
  
"We were about to get up! Just now!" Merry said, scrambling out of the blanket, pulling on his shirt that had been lying on the pack next to his made-up bed. "We just...didn't get the chance to go inside last night, is all." He sounded strangely defensive.   
  
Harry shrugged and tried his best to blot the blood on his knee with a corner of his cloak. "Well, I think we're going soon, so when you two get ready find Gandalf." He stood back up and started walking away, toward Treebeard's towering form. Only as a curious afterthought did he turn around and see Merry and Pippin sharing in a sweet kiss. He shook his head.  
  
"At least I'm not the only one," he murmered, laughing softly.  
  
__________________________  
  
A/N: (again)! Sorry guys, no lemon here. I decided not to put one in because a)-I'm determined to make this only PG-13, and b) I think they're banned anyways.   
  
I hope you like it - I'm sorry it's so short, but I wanted to get it out to you guys as ssoon as I could :) 


	16. Warning

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Sixteen: Warning  
  
by Capella   
  
A/N: The plot is finally going to pick up again! And all will be revealed...kind of. I figured since the last chapter was totally bereft of any plot and was put in there to ease the angst, I should most likely start moving the story along again.  
  
I really want to thank the reviewers again. After that last, rushed posting, where I spent about a half hour on the entire chapter (bleh), I was so happy to get some of those reviews - specifically, the ones that told me not to rush my chapters. Thank you guys for being honest and telling me when my tone is sounding too stilted and forced. I want to make this fic as good as I can, not rushed. So I hope you guys don't mind if it takes me a little bit to churn out my chapters. Thank you all again! you're lovely :)  
  
I realize that lots of this is stuff from the book, but it's unavoidable - I can't go through and NOT put it in there, you know. I hate it though I feel so uncreative when I have to do this.  
  
Well, after much ado about nothing, here is chapter sixteen. I appretiate your reviews - ie, leave some more! :D Sorry if this chapter is just a bit squicky. NOTHING will develop between Gandalf and Harry - it's just a plot device.  
  
_____________________  
  
Red fog...why did that seem so familiar?  
  
As the sun set on their last day at Orthanc, the strange, misty fog covering Isengard was lit with the bright red light of the setting sun. Harry reached out a hand, watching as the fog swirled around it, and wondered why the redness made him think of home.  
  
"Harry, will you come?"  
  
Harry turned in the direction of the voice, and saw Legolas standing impatiently next to Arod. The others, Gandalf on Shadowfax with Merry, and Aragorn with Pippin, had already left a few minutes earlier. Harry shook his head.   
  
"Theoden lent me another horse, Legolas, so that Gimli could ride with you. He didn't want to ride by himself." Harry stroked the flank of the jet black mare standing calmly next to him, and she whickered softly in contentment. Legolas didn't look any less displeased except in the set of his mouth, which tightened momentarily. Harry grinned, walking over to Legolas and leaning up to give him a small kiss. "It's only for a little bit, Legolas. You'll survive." He swung up onto his horse with only a little bit of trouble and motioned for Legolas to do the same.   
  
"I have to find that dwarf first," Legolas said, eyes unreadable, and turned to do exactly that. Shrugging at the abrupt mood swing, Harry dug his heels into the mare's side and they sped off into the fog. After close to a half hour of riding, he heard the pounding hoofbeats of Arod catching up to his horse and looked to the side, catching Legolas's smile as Arod raced past.  
  
_______________________  
  
Night swallowed the valley slowly, the faint mist clearing up in a heartbeat. They rode on with the River Isen at their side, sometimes near, sometimes far away as it meandered through the land. Harry couldn't stop yawning. He was afraid that he was going to fall off his horse.  
  
Finally they stopped for the night, They made camp in a small hollow in a glen, down in the roots of a huge hawthorn. Gimli and Aragorn took first watch while the others ate supper. Harry sat on an old branch and stared at his feet, good mood from earlier dissapated. He glanced over and caught Gandalf's eye, and he could swear he saw a glimmer of guilt there. Gandalf looked back at the campfire.  
  
Harry got up and moved to sit next to the wizard, staring into the crackling flames as well as he spoke. "If you know anything at all, Gandalf, just - tell me. Please." He looked away from the fire and into the old, wizened face, hoping to find some clue there. "I need to know what's happening to me."  
  
"If I tell you, I will not keep anything from you. Anything. Some of this might be...hard for you to take." The wizard let out a large sigh and continued.  
  
"I do not know what ruled your world, but here we have one god, Eru. He made his children, the Valar, to create our world. The Valar came to Arda with their servants, called the Maia. They fashioned the world, but had much trouble from an evil Valar and his servants. Sauron is one of that Maiar's servants, perverted to darkness, as are the Balrogs. To counter this evil, the Valar sent the Istari, the wizards, to Middle-Earth. We are Maiar in the shape of men, to help the races in times of need. This is where our sorcery comes from.  
  
"However, when you came to Middle-earth, something went wrong. I had been wondering for some time how you managed to use magic while in our world, as you are not an Istari by any means. But then I saw the Imperial mark on your head and now the sign of the Maiar, and everything fits."  
  
Harry frowned. "Everything doesn't fit for me, Gandalf. I don't get what you're saying. The history of Middle-Earth doesn't explain what's happening to me."  
  
"Haven't you wondered why you are able to do magic here? It is not by some stroke of luck. And haven't you thought about how you can possibly know these things that you cannot possibly know? You..are an Istari, Harry."  
  
"What the hell -"  
  
"Peace, for a moment, please," Gandalf said quickly, holding up a hand. "You must understand. You are not the only one inhabiting your body right now.  
  
"When you came to this world, by some force that I still do not know, it is my understanding that one of the Maiar was drawn into your body by both your mark and the mere fact that you believed you could do magic. It is not so much that you could do magic but that you knew you could, and this forced the Maiar spirit into your body."  
  
Harry shook his head, disbelieving.   
  
"The shock of having such a powerful spirit with your own in sending your body into a collapse - it will not last much longer. You will not last more than a month."  
  
Harry finally found his voice again. "If your almighty gods are so powerful then why can't they get this spirit out of my body?" he shouted, but lowered his voice at a quick gesture from Gandalf. "Why can't they make it leave before it - it kills me?"  
  
Gandalf exhaled. "I cannot answer that question, Harry. Nor maybe will I ever be able to." Suddenly the wizard looked down into Harry's eyes, and his eyes weren't those of an old man. They were eyes much more beautiful, a shining purple, and his visage flashed that of a beautiful man, his age impossible to tell. The god reached up a shaking, smooth hand and touched Harry's cheek.  
  
"Please, Eonwe," the smooth tenor voice said, trembling. Harry reached his hand up and placed it over the other's.  
  
"Olorin," he said simply, and a sudden feeling of love hit him. He closed his eyes and took Olorin's hand in his own. "You left too suddenly, I -" and then it was over.  
  
He dropped Gandalf's hand, shocked and scared. Gandalf's now blue eyes were filled with grief and sadness. "You see what I mean now, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded numbly and without another word got up, going to a corner of the hollow and wrapping himself up in his warm cotton cloak. He tried his hardest to go to sleep, but haunting violet eyes followed him even there, and his dreams were troubled.  
  
______________________  
  
  
  
The soft cry that escaped Harry's throat as he woke was drowned out by a shrill shriek from the other side of the camp. Harry leapt up, nameless fear in his mind, that something had found them and come for him. He heard voices, Gandalf's voice and Pippin's, and relieved, he crept silently toward where they were talking. He lay quietly behind one of the hawthorns' large roots, peeking over it and looking to where Gandalf knelt by Pippin's shocked form.   
  
"They are not for you, Saruman!" the little hobbit cried in a toneless voice. "I will send for both of them at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"   
  
Gandalf held the hobbit down as Pippin attempted to get up and escape. Harry frowned, totally confused. "Peregrin Took! Come back!"  
  
"Gandalf," Pippin said, back to his senses. "Gandalf, forgive me!"  
  
"Forgive you? Tell me first what you have done!"  
  
Pippin looked scared. "I took the ball and looked in it, and I saw things that frightened me. And I wanted to go away, but I couldn't. And then he came and questioned me; and he looked at me, and that is all I remember."  
  
"That won't do. What did you see, and what did you say?"   
  
Harry leaned a bit forward to catch Pippin's muttered words. He noticed the pained expression on Merry's face as he inadvertantly turned toward's Harry's hiding spot in grief.   
  
"I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements," Pippin began. "It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. Then the stars went in and out--they were cut off by things with wings. Very big, I think, really; but in the glass they looked like bats wheeling round the tower. One began to fly straight towards me, getting bigger and bigger. It had a horrible-no, no! I can't say."  
  
"I tried to get away, because I thought it would fly out; but when it had covered the glass, it disappeared. Then *he* came. He did not speak so that I could hear words. He just looked, and I understood.  
  
" 'So you have come back? Why have you neglected to report for so long?'  
  
"I didn't answer. He said: "Who are you?" I still didn't answer, but it hurt horribly, and he pressed me, so I said: "A hobbit."  
  
  
  
"Then suddenly he seemed to see me, and he laughed at me. It was cruel. It was like being stabbed with knives. I struggled. But he said: "Wait a moment! We shall meet again soon. Tell Sauruman that this dainty, and the boy, are not for him. I will send for both at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"  
  
Harry shivered, rubbing his arms as goosebumps broke out everywhere. He knew with sudden clarity that he was the boy that Sauron had been speaking of. Morgoth. Melkor. I...  
  
Blinking, Harry realized that he had lost Pippin's train of thought. Gandalf was carrying Pippin back to his bed. Predictibly, Merry followed and laid down beside the other hobbit. Whatever Gandalf said was lost to Harry's ears. Melkor. He knew not how I--  
  
The cold wind picked up and swirled Harry's hair into his face and whipping his cloak around him. He started violently at the pair of arms that suddently encircled his waist, but just as quickly relaxed into Legolas's warm embrace. "I don't want to be alone," he whispered. Legolas kissed the top of his head, offering silent comfort.   
  
"I know," he replied.  
  
Harry was about to say something, anything, whatever he had to do to make the other conciousness that was hovering on the edge of his own leave when as quick as lightening fear flashed across his mind. He threw up his hands and cried out, dropping to a crouch on the ground.   
  
"Christ!" Harry whispered as the shadow of fear left, and felt Legolas pull him to his feet.  
  
"Nazgul," he said urgently, tugging Harry in the direction of Arod and Harry's mare. "We must leave quickly!" Everyone was mounted or getting ready to do so, and the King and Aragorn were on their horses conversing quietly.  
  
Dazedly Harry mounted his horse, who followed Arod and Legolas without any help from Harry. He clung on in a stupor, a strange fog decended over his vision as he fought for his sanity. For a moment his own spirit receded, giving way to the more powerful one inside him. For a moment his eyes shone eerily silver, then it was pushed back and he was Harry again.  
  
They had not ridden long when a Rider went to the front with a message for Aragorn and the King that made them stop and turn back. Harry reigned in his horse and turned her around, trotting to Legolas's side and swaying slighty in his saddle.  
  
A lone figure walked out of the darkness and into the circle of horsemen, his face shadowed.  
  
"Halt! Who rides in Rohan?" cried Eomer loudly.  
  
"Rohan?" said the man, in a clear voice. "Rohan, did you say? That is a glad word. We seek your land in haste."  
  
"You've found it. When you crossed the fords, you entered it, but it is the realm of Theoden King. None ride here save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"  
  
"Halbarad Dunedan, Ranger of the North I am. We seek Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard he was in Rohan."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "And you have found him also!" He ran forward and embraced Halbarad tightly to the suprise of all. "Of all joys this is the least expected! All is well," he continued, turning back to Theoden. "Here are some of my own kin."  
  
"Thirty at least, but that is all of our kindred that could be gathered. Elladan and Elrohir have also ridden with us. We rode as swiftly as we might when your summons came."  
  
Aragorn paused. "I did not summon you, save only in wish," he said slowly. "I sent no word. But come! All such matters must wait. Ride with us now, if the king will give us his leave."  
  
Theoden did, gracefully, and the party of now both Dunedain and Riders mounted their steeds and continued the journey to Edoras. Harry was slouched in his saddle, riding next to Legolas. He felt himself nodding off several times during the journey, but each time the fear of that spirit inside him taking over while he slept kept him awake. The sun was right below the horizon when they rode up at last from the Deeping Coomb to the Hornburg, There, Aragorn said they would rest briefly and take counsel.   
  
Harry didn't know when he had fallen asleep that night, but only knew that in the morning he was woken from a restless sleep by voices, again. They were of Merry, Legolas, and Gimli. He stretched from his position on the floor, back popping so loud that it attracted the attention of the other three. He got up slowly. "Where is Aragorn?" he said, shielding his face from the sun streaming in a window.  
  
"He is in a high chamber of the Burg," Gimli answered. "He has not rested nor slept, I think. Some dark doubt or care sits on him."  
  
"They are a strange company, these newcomers," said Merry. "Stout men and lordly they are, for they are grim of face and like weathered rocks for the most part, and they are silent."  
  
"Why are they here?" Harry asked, not really caring despite their situation. He felt dismal and detached. He followed the others as they passed out towards the ruined gate of the Burg.  
  
"They answered a summons," said Gimli. "Word came to Rivendell, they say: Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dunedain ride to him in Rohan! Now why did we not wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas looked heartbreakingly sad. Harry went to him and just stood close to the elf, trying to give him comfort the same as Legolas had given him the night before. "I do not think that any would come," Legolas said softly. "They have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands." He wrapped his arms around himself, looking towards the east, to Mordor, and over it a dark cloud lay, slowly moving west.  
  
______________________ 


	17. Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Seventeen: Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Next chapter time! I was going to start this out with humble apologies for my lateness, since I did say I was going to update every two weeks, but you know....I want this to be good. I don't want to zoom through a chapter. But hey, in my freetime I got the entire story line done.  
  
By the way - the story is now going to stop pretending to be canon and go way, way off the Tolkien track. But it's better that way. ^_~   
  
Well that's it for this time - read and review and I'll love you forever.  
  
Oh yes, just a little *warning* - one part of this chapter is a little bit violent. Not much, but just for the squeamish.   
  
_____________________________  
  
  
  
"If you can hear a piano fall  
  
You can hear me coming down the hall  
  
If I could just hear your pretty voice  
  
I don't think I need to see at all  
  
Soft hair and a velvet tongue  
  
I want to give you what you give to me  
  
And every breath that is in your lungs  
  
Is a tiny little gift to me..."  
  
-The White Stripes  
  
______________________________  
  
Harry woke that morning to a pair of tiny hands shaking his shoulders urgently. For a moment, still trapped in his dreams, he lashed out with flailing fists and caught something solid. An indignant "ouch!" of pain roused him finally from sleep.  
  
Harry opened his eyes and saw a small figure crouching back on the floor, holding a hand to his nose, looking rather indignant. Harry winced.   
  
"Merry, I'm sorry -"  
  
"What were you dreaming to cause that?" Merry asked, voice sounding pained.   
  
Harry opened his mouth to answer, then frowned. "I don't remember," he said slowly. "What did you want?"  
  
  
  
Merry paused and his expressive brown eyes grew saddened, mouth turned down in dismay. He spoke tentatively. "Legolas is gone."  
  
______________________________  
  
"What the hell do you mean we can't go looking for him?"  
  
"Harry, calm yourself, please -"  
  
"I will damn well not calm myself, Aragorn! Legolas has been captured and you say that you have more pressing things to deal with? Give me a break, you -"  
  
"Harry!" Aragorn's palms slapped down on the wooden table with a loud 'thud.' "You did not give me time to explain myself. Now please, sit down, listen, and maybe you will understand."  
  
Gritting his teeth in anger, Harry sat down on one of the wooden stools pulled up to the old table of the main hall. Clenched fists were held tightly by his side as he listened to Aragorn speak.  
  
"My kinsman have ridden down to aid me, and Theoden as well. I cannot possibly leave them, not now. War marches on our lands, and if we are not there to stop it, then all will be lost forever." Harry opened his mouth to protest. "Wait! Do not say anything yet. Theoden and I have discussed it and while you would be a great asset to us at Helm's Deep, we have decided that you would leave to search no matter what I say. We cannot possibly spare anyone else, but we will give you a horse and all the supplies you need." Aragorn's voice softened, and he laid a calloused hand on Harry's shoulder. "Find him for us."  
  
______________________________  
  
  
  
The swift hoofbeats of Harry's black mare thundered across the plains. The rushing wind pulled tears into Harry's eyes, and he let loose of the horse's hair for a moment to dash them out off his cheeks. His mind went in circles, most of the thoughts not pleasant.  
  
Something just stuck out in his memory as he was searching for clues, looking for anyone who would have captured Legolas. He remembered so clearly those deep, black eyes of Saruman at Orthanc, as the wizard recognized him. He remembered the concern in Legolas's expression...and the contemplating look on Saruman's face when he saw it.   
  
Harry wanted badly to be concerned. He wanted to be worried, he wanted to be upset - but the only emotion he could feel was a blanket of red anger hazing his mind.   
  
Dead, thought Harry and grit his teeth. When I get my hands on him, he is going to die.  
  
______________________________  
  
  
  
Harry took rest that night in an old, decaying tower that had long since been forgotten in the annuls of Middle Earth. He stared up at its ancient majesty, stones crumbling, creepers clinging to the walls, and something struck a chord, deep inside of him. Somehow, in some past remembrance, he remembered coming with Orome, once, to this tower. He saw it for a moment in all its glory, part of a beautiful city with blue banners and silver walls.  
  
Too weary to try and fight off the memories that wouldn't stop coming, Harry tied his horse to a large stone pillar and went to find a place to sleep inside the tower.  
  
______________________________  
  
  
  
The next morning rose deceptively lovely over the rolling hills of Rohan. The wind rushed by Harry as he rode, while he urgently spurred on his horse on with sharp heels to her sides. He was becoming desperate now, a sudden attack of pain knocking him unconscious for two days in the tower.   
  
He was starting to fear for Legolas's life.   
  
In his mind he kept seeing what Saruman might have done to the elf, what that -- that thing that the wizard kept in the pits of Orthanc might have done to Legolas.  
  
Suddenly, of in the distance somewhere, Harry caught a flash of light...like the morning sun glinting off black stone. Harry smiled grimly to himself. One day at most, he thought. One day, and I'll have Legolas back.  
  
______________________________  
  
"Saruman!"  
  
Red sparks flew off black stone.  
  
"Get the hell out here, Saruman!" Harry screamed, flinging spell after spell on the impenetrable walls. They bounced off and showered rainbow colors in deadly sprays of light.   
  
"I swear to God, Saruman, if you don't get out here in three seconds -" Harry lifted his wand to do another futile spell and, at the same time, the door opened a crack. Harry didn't hesitate.  
  
"STUPEFY!" he yelled, watching in pleasure as the limp figure of Wormtongue crumpled to the ground with blood leaking out a thin nose. He stepped over the body and into Orthanc.  
  
A loud voice seemed to shake the tower from its roots and the walls shook with the force of it. "Who dares come here uninvited?" Saruman's voice boomed.  
  
Harry's lips curled into a feral snarl. "Someone you'll wish you had never pissed off," he muttered as he raced toward the throne room, wand held aloft. The huge doors burst open before he got there, and the first spell was cast even as he stepped into the room.   
  
It took him by surprise, like a punch to the gut, and he fell heavily to the ground. He realized suddenly that he had never really fought against Saruman. His vision glazed over a bit as he cast his attack.  
  
"Annihilare!"   
  
Saruman moved with surprising speed for his age, rolling from his throne into a crouch on the floor. He looked wild and hunted. Harry thought that he himself probably looked the same.  
  
The old wizard said no words, but simply pointed his staff and what he wanted to happen, did. While dodging a tricky attack, Harry realized that he somehow knew he'd done that before too. He closed his eyes, imagined chains wrapping Saruman from head to toe, and pointed his wand. It was almost too easy.  
  
All noise in the chamber stopped.  
  
  
  
Harry opened his eyes.  
  
There, lying on the floor and looking murderous, was Saruman. Immobile. Harry smiled in satisfaction.   
  
His bootsteps echoed ominously as they rang on the stone floor. Harry's dark cloak swished around him and he must have looked terrible, because Saruman shrank back the tiniest bit. Only a bit, but it was enough to let Harry know he had a chance. Finally reaching the wizard, Harry bent down to one knee and looked Saruman in the eye.  
  
"Where is he?" Harry said softly, dangerously.   
  
Saruman gazed back impassively, back to his arrogant self. "Whom do you speak of?"  
  
"Don't play games with me, Saruman!" Harry's palm slapped against the cold floor. "Tell me where Legolas is, or I swear I'll bring this tower down on your head!"  
  
"Ah, you must mean the elf," Saruman said, voice silky and sinuous. "You care for him, do you not." It was not a question.  
  
Harry grit his teeth. "What are you getting at, old man?" he ground out, gripping his wand until his knuckles turned white. He itched to cast an Unforgivable. Saruman stared at him, triumphantly, not answering. Finally reaching the end of his limited patience, Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it straight between Saruman's eyes, glaring at the wizard. "Where is he? If you don't answer I swear, I'll -- I'll kill you."  
  
"He is gone, a day and a half hence with a band of Orcs." At Harry's narrowed eyes, Saruman elaborated smugly. "To Mordor."  
  
Harry's eyes widened in horror. Of all the places for Legolas to be sent. ...  
  
It was a trap, of course. It couldn't have been more obvious than if Sauron had sent him an invitation.  
  
But it was a trap that Harry couldn't help walking straight in to.  
  
  
  
Harry bent over the neck of his horse, clenching teeth that would have been chattering if his lips weren't pressed together until they went white. A tiny trickle of blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth. Another explosion of pain nearly knocked Harry off his horse. His stomach felt on fire.  
  
He couldn't afford to stop now. God, in the panic he'd been in about Legolas being sent to Mordor, he'd nearly forgotten one of the more horrifying things Saruman had casually mentioned.  
  
...with a band of Orcs...  
  
_________________________________  
  
The ropes binding his wrists and ankles had been tied too tightly, blood already beginning to glue rope to skin from struggles.  
  
The Orc, towering above from where Legolas lay in the dirt, laughed and bent down to prod Legolas roughly. He refused to cringe or back away, even when the Orc found a particularly sore spot from a broken rib. The Orc laughed again and said something to his comrades, who looked down at the elf with hungry eyes. Legolas ignored them all.  
  
They had caught him unaware, a ways off from the Coomb, a small band of Orcs that had somehow gone unnoticed in the confusion of battle. Before Legolas had even the time to string his bow, the Orcs had his hands and feet bound as he struggled. One of them had clubbed Legolas across the neck and the elf had fell into a blissful blackness.  
  
He had awoke an indeterminate time later, to find his wrists and feet bound too tightly; a rope had been looped about his neck and connected to his hands in such a fashion that if he struggled at all it would cut off his air supply. He had spent most of his time the first night like that, gasping desperately for air as the Orcs loomed above him and laughed in malicious delight.  
  
He still hadn't given up hope completely. It was only the third night, and he had yet to go anywhere or meet anyone. The Orcs had stopped for a long while the second day, leaving him blindfolded and shivering on the ground in the cold morning chill.   
  
A huge, clawed hand ran up his leg and he glared up at his captor, a bit of real fear emerging from the shell of aloofness. The Orc above him grinned, showing foul yellow teeth. Legolas had to bite his already broken bottom lip to keep from making noise as the Orc drug his hand back down Legolas's flank, claws dug in deep. Long ribbons of blood painted Legolas's leg and tattered trousers. The Orc stared at him a little dangerously.   
  
Legolas resisted the urge to cringe as the other Orcs, attracted by the smell of blood and their leader's arousal, crowded around him. The leader still stared at him, bending down to stroke Legolas's bloody leg like the feel of his skin was getting the Orc off.  
  
"Stop," Legolas said, voice breaking.   
  
The leader grabbed Legolas by his hair and hauled the elf up to his feet. The Orc bent forward and bit Legolas's shoulder, drawing blood to run down Legolas's chest. Snarling, Legolas reared back and spit in the Orc's face.  
  
A stinging backhand sent Legolas sprawling, face down in the dirt, reflexive tears streaking his cheeks. He realized suddenly with a growing amount of horror that his trousers were nothing more than a few shreds hanging off his hips and legs. He stared up at the Orcs.  
  
"No," he whispered, but they were closing in swiftly on him, hunger plain on their faces. He closed his eyes as the first Orc reached for him, hope fading away into pain and humiliation, and then darkness.  
  
______________________________  
  
The Orcs had been in plain view two days later.  
  
Rising yet another slope, his horse panting and close to collapse, Harry spotted a lone Orc topping the next hill and disappearing behind it. His breath caught in his throat.  
  
"God, let that be them," he hissed under his breath, spurring on his horse. It rolled its eyes, shy of getting too close.   
  
Harry followed the Orcs all through that day. He came upon numerous evidence of their trail: heavy footsteps in the mud of the marshes, blood from some long-dead animal. A few times he found cattle or horses, ripped apart and mangled. Once he found some nameless person; he had to lean over his horse to empty his stomach after that.   
  
As Harry topped the next hill, he caught sight of a few Orcs going behind the next. Fear quickened his heart. Only one Orc looking back, only one...that's all it would take...bile rose to his throat at the memory of the torn-apart man. There had been peices ripped out that Harry had never wanted to see.  
  
Suddenly an overwhelming fear gripped heart and his stomach fluttered nervously. He looked up from where he'd been tracking the band of Orcs and stopped the horse.  
  
Towering in the distance only a few miles away was the Black Gate.  
  
The Orcs went straight in.  
  
How the hell was he supposed to get into that? There was no way he could pass for an Orc, and he very much doubted that anything human passed those gates often. Trying to get through would arouse at best suspicion and doubt. Harry didn't really want to think of the other possibilities.  
  
As he stroked the mane of his horse, he glanced around the barren wasteland. His gaze tracked a small, almost-hidden path down into a pocket of shadows.   
  
His eyes abruptly rolled back into his head and his spine stiffened as a particularly strong vision/premonition/memory rolled over his mind.  
  
Before he even knew what he was doing, Harry was on his horse and spurring it towards that path; a path leading to a place he knew now as Cirith Ungol.   
  
______________________  
  
A/N: Wish I didn't have to stop the chapter here -- the next one is going to be so freaking cool (...I have to be unmodest, sorry to offend). I've been waiting to write these next few chapters since I started this story. *excited* 


	18. Possession

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Eighteen: Possession  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Hey, another holiday update :) I'm considering uploading this New Year's Eve *grins* That'd be fun...  
  
Ooh, cool chapter time! *bounces up and down* We're getting there, my friends. Like I said last time, these are the chapters I've been dying to write, and they're finally here. And just wonderfully chock-full of angst and heartbreak. Woohoo!  
  
I've been reading over this story, and I'm seriously thinking about redoing the first six chapters or so. I mean honestly, they're just awful. I wasn't taking the story seriously. So as soon as this is up, expect to see redone chapters. Thank God!  
  
By the way, thanks for the reviews, you guys! *hugs the reviewers* I'm so happy you liked the last chapter, because it was my favorite. Hope you like this one just as much!  
  
Just, one thing as you read all the Legolas parts. I don't want you to get the wrong impressiong (and kill me). So...think Theoden. *grins*  
  
_________________________  
  
"And I would be the one   
  
to hold you down   
  
kiss you so hard   
  
I'll take your breath away   
  
and after, I'd wipe away the tears   
  
just close your eyes dear   
  
Through this world I've stumbled   
  
so many times betrayed   
  
trying to find an honest word to find   
  
the truth enslaved   
  
oh you speak to me in riddles   
  
and you speak to me in rhymes   
  
my body aches to breathe your breath   
  
your words keep me alive.."  
  
--Possession, by Sarah McLachlan  
  
  
  
_____________________________  
  
Harry's legs were threatening to give out on him. He nearly swore he could see where the stairs ended, maybe thirty steps ahead, but then again he'd been climbing for so long perhaps he was imagining it.   
  
The step he was on suddenly crumbled and he felt air beneath his feet. He collapsed to keep from falling all the way to the bottom and pressed his forehead against the stone. It took a moment for him to get up again. And he found himself staring into what seemed to be a hole devoid of light.  
  
Weary, disjointed, Harry stood staring into the blackness for a while before he was able to make out the rocky walls of a cave. He walked forward, stumbled, and caught himself just in time to keep from falling on his face. "Lumos," he said tiredly, bringing up his wand. The light from his wand went no more than five feet before fading away as the darkness pressed in. Before he went even ten steps, he decided that he was very glad that he'd never been claustrophobic.  
  
He stared at the ground beneath his feet as he trudged through the cave; not beaten or in despair, but in thought. Harry could feel the change in the air. The evil here was almost palpable. It was obvious that he was into Mordor, as soon as he left the cave, but what then? He hadn't really thought past that.   
  
Something brushed against his head.  
  
Harry wheeled around, bringing up his wand and racking his brain for the worst curses and hexes he knew -- his heart leaping in his chest -- and he saw a piece of spiderweb dangling from the ceiling. He frowned and brought down his wand cautiously.   
  
How *would* he get Legolas out of those Orc's grip?  
  
Already in thought again, Harry didn't notice the green slime sticking to the bottom of his boots and coating the cave floor. He didn't even notice the trail of it leading away from the spot where he stood, or more spiderweb littering the floor. He did, however, eventually see the glowing eyes glaring at him from the shadows.   
  
Harry took a step backward as the...the thing came forward, its huge, massive bulk heaving out of the shadows. It was a spider -- at least as big as himself, he noted distantly -- and it looked rather angry. He felt his boot squish under his feet as he took another scared step, and saw the same gunk oozing from a huge wound on the spider's belly. Harry smiled grimly. He was no easy meat for an injured monster. He raised his wand, a dangerous glint to his eye.   
  
The spider paused, its eyes growing dull. Sensing a fight, it turned and scuttled into the darkness, to its lair. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Adrenaline rushing through his system, he ran forward along the passage.   
  
"...got him in the end, didn't she?"  
  
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the voices until he'd nearly stumbled into them at the crossroad of two paths. He crouched behind a loose rock and waited as the torch-lights came up the tunnel. "Nox," he whispered. Snatches of conversation floated to him, and what he heard made his heart freeze.  
  
"...got who? This little fellow? But if he was the only one, then she'd....if Lugburz wanted him, you'd have to go...there was more than one."  
  
Frodo. Frodo and Sam! It had to be! He lost the thread of conversation as the voices died down, then one voice swelled in agitation.   
  
"....The prisoner is to be kept safe and intact, under pain of death for every member of the guard, until He sends or comes Himself. That's plain enough, and that's what I'm going to do."   
  
"Stripped, eh? What, teeth, nails, hair, and all?"  
  
That meant one, or both, of the hobbits were dead. He felt numb.   
  
"...binds with cords, she's after meat. She doesn't eat dead meat, nor suck cold blood. This fellow isn't dead!"  
  
Harry felt for his wand in the dark, and readied himself. If Frodo was alive...he'd save him. Him, and then Legolas. The torches bobbed even closer...closer...  
  
"Annihilare!" he shouted, and jumped into the path. The spell knocked at least half a dozen Orcs to the ground, dead on impact. The big one in front paused, and then grimaced.   
  
"Filthy wizard," it snarled. "I'll put bloody maggot-holes in your belly before I let you get this one." The sound of weapons clanking against armor echoed through the cavern. Harry felt his lips draw back over his teeth.  
  
"And I'll rip you apart before I let you kill Frodo," he growled, Crucio on the tip of his tongue. The orc paused.  
  
"Frodo, that's its name?" It suddenly got agitated. "What about that filthy elf-warrior that stuck her Ladyship?"  
  
Elf warrior. Harry grinned. That meant Legolas was alive! His Legolas was alive. He felt like dancing.   
  
"I don't know where he is, but if I were you, I wouldn't be worrying about him. I'd be worrying about the wizard that's about to kill you. Crucio Contego!" Fuck forbidden, he thought with a vicious smile. These Orcs were going to die.  
  
As he watched them all howl in pain on the ground with a grim sort of satisfaction (and maybe a touch of guilt), he felt a sudden pain bloom in his calf, like a fire. He fell to his hands and knees, eyes glued to the gash that cut through the back of his leg, through muscle and skin, to show the white of bone. He saw an Orc standing above him. The thing must have snuck up on him. He lifted his wand.  
  
"Cruc..." he whispered in pain. He watched through muddy vision as the Orc smirked in triumph. "Cr..." He let his head fall between his hands. He thought his leg would burn off his body. The Orc bent down to his eye level.  
  
"Take the spell off them, you filthy thing, or I'll kill the little one."   
  
"Finite Incantatem," Harry murmured, the words barely there, but the spell stopped. He felt lightheaded. The Orc grabbed his arm.  
  
"This one goes to Baradur, orders of Him. Let's go, before the..."  
  
The Orc's mouth kept moving but for some reason Harry couldn't hear what he was saying. Harry let his head drop to the floor. Pain, shock, and then blackness.  
  
__________________________________  
  
  
  
The walls had begun to close in on him.  
  
Harry stared at the stone ceiling above his head as he lay on the straw pallet of his cell. His vision was blurry and fuzzy, and he couldn't really focus on anything. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Something and wet was trickling from his face down to his neck, dripping onto the floor. Tears or blood, he didn't care which. Everything seemed to hurt. Especially the spot of pain on his calf. It had been stitched up, but messily, and the blood flowed constantly if sluggishly. Harry prayed that it would stop soon. His wand had been taken. He reached up with a weak, shaking hand to touch the metal collar around his throat.   
  
He struggled to sit up. Harry Potter would not die lying down, and sitting down either, if he could help it. Sitting up alone made his head spin and his vision swirl sickeningly, however, so he thought maybe standing was out of the question. He leaned his back against the wall and tipped his head back. Harry almost just wished they'd come in here and get it over with. Kill him quick. Maybe when they came he'd take out a guard before he died.  
  
The cell door opened and a sickly reddish light flooded in. He squinted against it.  
  
Rough hands grabbed Harry's biceps and brought him to his feet, and an ugly face was brought into his blurry vision. An Orc. Harry felt his lips draw back into a snarl, a growl starting deep in his chest. Who knew if this had been one of those Orcs who'd captured Legolas. For a moment he allowed himself to wonder if the elf was even alive. Only for a moment, and then the thought was viciously shoved away.  
  
The Orc snorted and let his arms go. Harry swayed but stayed on his feet and let the Orc lead him by a chain hanging off the metal collar about his throat. It was all he could do to stay upright. He didn't pay attention to where they were headed until the Orc stopped and Harry nearly ran into the Orc's back.  
  
Harry stared up at the huge black doors, a feeling of fear worming its way into his mind. Somehow, he knew what was behind those doors. Sauron and pain. The Orc grinned nastily at him and rapped on the heavy doors.  
  
A voice, seeming to come from everywhere at once, invading his mind, boomed from the room.  
  
COME.  
  
The Orc shivered in ecstasy at Sauron's voice. Harry couldn't help but feel faintly repulsed. That is, until the doors opened, and the fear threatened to overwhelm him.  
  
He got his first good look at Saruon. Or, at least, one of Sauron's many forms.  
  
It was a man, but at the same time -- not. Shadow cloaked him, so that his features were barely distinguishable save black hair and two red, fiery eyes that glared out from the darkness surrounding his face. He was covered in black clothes from shoulders down, and the material was such that it seemed to suck out light from the air.  
  
Sauron's very presence sent a spike of terror through Harry's veins, severing his determination and will. He fell to his knees, trembling. Forehead pressed against the floor, he heard the most horrible thing he'd ever heard in his life.   
  
Sauron was laughing.   
  
Harry shook like a branch in the wind, barely able to stop himself, even when the flow of fear ebbed just a touch. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He started like he'd been switched when he heard the voice again.  
  
WHAT HAS BECOME OF YOUR PRIDE, NOBLE ONE? WHERE IS YOUR HONOR, YOUR STRENGTH? Another one of those horrible chuckles. I HAVE CRUSHED YOU WITH ONLY MY MERE BEING. PATHETIC. Sauron sounded amused. The sound of it sent anger, and at the same time courage, through Harry. With a great effort, he stood up again.   
  
"You -- you can't even face me without your shadows to protect you," he shouted. At least, he meant for it to be a shout, but for some reason it came as a whisper. Sauron laughed again, and Harry resisted the urge to cover his ears. Barely.  
  
AS YOU WISH. THOUGH IT SHALL NOT SAVE YOU.  
  
Harry watched in amazement as the darkness around the solitary figure swirled and, after a few minutes, disappeared. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or -- or what. The figure standing there had been transformed. The same, blood-red eyes stared at Harry, the same black and red streaked hair, but his features were...strange. An age could not be put on him, nor a value. He simply...was. Harry was too busy trying to overcome his fear to try and figure out if Sauron's form looked handsome. He supposed it did, but in a strange, otherworldly sort of manner. Those eyes...he just couldn't get away from the eyes.   
  
"Is this more to your liking?" Sauron said, his voice as unimaginable as his face. It seemed like more than one deep voice, more than ten, even, all overlapping. But it was easier to face than that voice invading his mind and the shadows seeping into his bones. Then Sauron fixed him with that gaze and started gliding slowly forward, like a lion stalking its prey. Or maybe like a ghost.   
  
Harry stood in the same spot, willing himself not to back up. One of those robe-covered hands lifted and tried to touch his cheek.   
  
"Don't touch me!" he spat, glaring defiance. Then Saruon smiled, and his courage nearly shriveled up. Nearly, but not quite.   
  
"You are strong, little one," Sauron said.   
  
"Fuck you," he ground out. That hand...lifted to his face...  
  
A shock went through him, like fire and ice and lightning all mixed, and he was on his back before he even knew that he'd fallen. He scrambled up, but Sauron was already back to the front of the hall, sitting in his black throne.  
  
"I have a present for you, my little Maiar. Someone, I believe, dearly wished and hoped for. And what led you right into my grasp." He stretched out a lazy hand and curled a finger, and something in the darkness moved and came into the light.  
  
At first Harry thought it was a hallucination. Or maybe one of Sauron's tricks. But then, the hallucination spoke.  
  
"We meet again, Harry," Legolas said, a tiny smile on his face.   
  
Harry hadn't realized that he'd started forward, but suddenly his arms were wrapped around Legolas's shoulders in a tight hug. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. Faintly, through his joy, he wondered how Legolas was still alive and unhurt, even after the Orcs. But that faded away after only a moment. "I love you."  
  
Legolas laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling of sweet bells. "I told you as much," he said over his shoulder. To Sauron. Harry slowly unwound his arms and took a step back. Legolas had that same little smile, and it was faintly unnerving.  
  
Now that Harry got a good look at him, Legolas was just...different. He thought fuzzily, through his haze of confusion, that Legolas looked somewhat like a person who had their hair dyed blonde and had the black roots coming back in. And where his eyes had been a lovely sapphire blue, they were now black as night. He was just as striking, but his air of innocence was gone, replaced by a darkly beautiful appearance.  
  
Sauron laughed again. "You proved me wrong, my elf. It seems that he is not quite as intelligent as I had assumed."   
  
"What?" Harry asked hesitantly, glancing from Sauron to Legolas and then back again. Legolas smiled and walked away from him, going to kneel next to Sauron's throne. Harry felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach when Sauron's hand went down to stroke Legolas's hair, Legolas closing his eyes in ecstasy.   
  
"Isn't he lovely," Sauron said, not really a question. "You would be very suprised at how little persuading he needed to come to me willingly. At first, when my Orcs gave him to me, I was going to kill him. But then I learned that he could give me you." Sauron's red eyes shone with fervor. "And I found what a perfect slave to the dark he made."  
  
"He would never come to you willingly!" Harry ground out, fists clenching.  
  
"Oh, but he did, little one. And only after little while."  
  
"You're lying," Harry said desperately. It couldn't be true. He couldn't have been betrayed by Legolas. God, if he had --  
  
Legolas got up from his knees sinuously, and started towards Harry, swaying like a dancer. A deadly one. "Oh, Harry," he said, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. "Do you want to know the truth?" Harry leaned his head on Legolas's shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth enfold him.   
  
"I could never love you."  
  
Legolas smiled and let him go, and Harry crumpled to the ground, his legs no longer holding strength. He felt like he'd just been stabbed, his chest tight. "You don't mean that," he said, his voice so soft that he could barely hear it himself. He had to clench his teeth to keep from crying.  
  
Legolas laughed. "But I do. You were amusing, for a while, and so sweet. So very sweet." He had a particular glint to his eyes. "Sauron said that after the world is dead and under our control, that I could keep you. He's a very generous master."  
  
"No." Harry felt just a bit of anger invade his shock and despair. A tear escaped his iron control to trace a salty path down his cheek.   
  
"I didn't ask you if you wanted to," Legolas said, and bent down to stroke Harry's neck. "You do not really have a choice." His fingernails suddenly dug in deep, and Harry felt blood start to flow down the back of his neck. He closed his eyes --  
  
-- and punched Legolas as hard as he could between his eyes. It felt like punching a brick wall, but Legolas exhaled in shock and let go.   
  
A full-armed slap made his head ring and his lip split under the hand. The slap sent him sprawled to the ground. He looked up through pain-tears to see Legolas smiling that horrible, beautiful smile again. He wanted to scream.   
  
"I'll be seeing you again soon," he said softly and, after caressing Harry's bruised cheek gently, went back to his place by Sauron's side, watching avidly as the Orc came to drag Harry back to his cell.  
  
______________________________  
  
The straw under Harry's head was damp with tears by the time he was done crying.  
  
Unwillingly, his mind kept going over that encounter again and again, focusing on what hurt the most.   
  
I could never love you  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't his fault, he thought desperately. Sauron made him. It wasn't his fault at all.  
  
Yet he wondered why Legolas had betrayed him, even under pressure. And only after a day. Had...had Sauron been telling the truth?   
  
"Why, Legolas?" he whispered into the still, damp air.  
  
"Why what?"  
  
Harry sat up so fast that his head spun, and he wiped the tear trails off his face. He would not cry in front of Legolas. He would not!   
  
Legolas looked faintly amused. "I know what you are thinking, Harry. But you must realize that all I said was truth. Have I ever lied to you?" He smiled and bent down into a crouch in front of Harry, and pinned Harry with those raven-black, glittering eyes. Harry couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't fight back at all as Legolas leaned forward and pressed his lips to his own. Helpless, he gave in and opened his mouth under Legolas's. It was a different kiss than those of before; it felt like Legolas was trying to suck out his soul. A tear leaked out from each of his closed eyes.  
  
Legolas broke the kiss and leaned back. He lifted a finger to wipe away the tear coursing down Harry's right cheek.   
  
"I wish that I had come here only for this, but sadly enough, I was sent by my master. Although what I was sent for will be decidedly pleasant for me." Legolas's smile never wavered. "I was sent to break your spirit. I can think of a few ways to do so, and a few especially seem...enticing." The gleam in his eye told Harry what Legolas was thinking of.  
  
"No," he rasped, horrified. "You can't."  
  
Legolas sighed. "Alright, lovely. I suppose we will have enough time for that after my master takes power." His sudden smile was feral. "I will take enough pleasure from seeing you suffer." The Orc standing at the door handed Legolas a thick leather whip, tipped in metal. "Hold him down," Legolas snapped, and the Orc lumbered over to obey. Harry was turned on his stomach and his wrists were pressed to the floor in an iron grip.   
  
The first lash was enough to nearly bring a cry from him, but he held it in with an effort of will. He felt the metal tear ruts in his back, reaching from his right shoulderblade to his lower back. His shirt was in shreds. The second lash pulled a whimper from behind clenched teeth.  
  
"Beautiful, Harry," Legolas said from above him. "Let me hear you scream."  
  
By the time Legolas threw the bloody whip down, Harry had given up trying to hold back his cries. He had begun pleading for mercy by the tenth lash, and by the twentieth his screams had echoed in the cell. He couldn't catch his breath as sobs tore from his throat. Somewhere during his struggle the stitches in his leg had broken, and the blood poured down his leg again. He felt a hand stroke his head and push back his bangs from his sweaty forehead.  
  
"I know that did not break your spirit, " Legolas said softly. "I have a feeling that it will take much more than that."  
  
With not another word, Legolas left, closing Harry back in with the darkness, his pain, and his own bleak, despairing thoughts.  
  
____________________________  
  
A/N: Well, that's that -- hope I don't get too many flames about this ^_^ Even if you hated what I did to Legolas (I did too) it was necessary for the end. What end, you ask? ...well, you'll see :) 


	19. Demon In My View

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Nineteen: Demon In My View  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Oh my GOSH, folks. 207 reviews!!! YESSS!!!! And since you guys all reviewed me, I decided to not make Legolas a bad guy. The reason this chapter took as long as it did (I had most of it done in the week after I posted 18) is coz I didn't know whether to make Legolas evil or not. Well, i decided it'd be more dramatic this way. God, this chapter was so fun to write. *grins* Sadist, thy name is Capella.   
  
Well, it's resolution time -- or at least, understanding time. :) I felt bad for what I did to Legolas last chapter, let alone Harry (even though it was sort of fun to write *grins*). So, althought it's not better yet, I'm giving you a peek into Legolas's psyche. Enjoy!   
  
....I love Edgar Allen Poe. *is a geek*  
  
_____________________________  
  
"From the torrent, or the fountain,  
  
From the red cliff of the mountain,  
  
From the sun that round me rolled  
  
In its autumn tint of gold,  
  
From the lightning in the sky  
  
As it passed me flying by,  
  
From the thunder and the storm,  
  
And the cloud that took the form  
  
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)  
  
Of a demon in my view."  
  
-- Edgar Allen Poe, "Alone"  
  
_____________________________  
  
The light from the open door hit Harry's face as he slept, and Legolas could tell from the shiny tracks down the white skin that he'd been weeping again. He couldn't help but think how beautiful Harry was when he slept.  
  
So beautiful. So innocent. So...mine.  
  
The thought slithered up in his mind, unbidden, insinuating. His expression never wavered, but inside he screamed, a wordless cry. He willed his legs to move; he cried at his feet to turn around and walk out. Before he could hurt Harry.  
  
A slimy laugh echoed through his head, and Legolas felt his lips turn up in a smirk even as he railed against the presence in his own mind. Get out, he pleaded. Please --  
  
"Wake up, lovely."  
  
That was his voice, his own voice, speaking. And Harry was looking up at him with those bruised, dulled eyes. Broken. He wanted to die.  
  
"What do you want?" Harry whispered in a hoarse rasp. Legolas's body moved of someone else's wishes, and he bent down to eye level with the boy on the straw.  
  
Legolas still hadn't figured out what had happened, how Sauron had done -- done what he did. He'd gone over that encounter so many times but he still didn't know how to break the spell. And he wanted to so badly. But for some reason, he couldn't focus...all he remembered was the searching hands, what Sauron had said, had done...he shivered. Then the pain. When he'd woken up, he'd woken up to being a prisoner as much as Harry was -- only he was trapped in his own mind.   
  
All he wanted was one second of freedom. Just to tell Harry -- to tell him that it had been a lie. Legolas remembered the betrayal Harry had had in his eyes when...when those words had come out of his mouth. Legolas had wanted to die then. He still did.  
  
"Stop....Legolas..."  
  
Those green eyes were full of tears now that threatened to spill over creamy-pale cheeks. Legolas realized what he'd been doing and wanted to retch, wanted to throw the knife down, the one that he'd - Sauron - had used to cut Harry's clothes off.   
  
As Legolas felt Sauron laughing at him, in his mind, and saw his own hand pin both of Harry's slim wrists to the ground, there was only one thought floating the corner of his mind.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
________________________  
  
Legolas finally left.  
  
The relief in Harry was so strong that he was almost ashamed. He shut his eyes tight, cheek pressed into the hay beneath his head, and tried to ignore what was trickling down the back of his bare thighs, tried to ignore the hurt and the tiny spot of pain where he'd bitten his lip to keep from screaming.   
  
It was strange...he didn't want to escape anymore. In the beginning, he'd dreamed of escaping, of finding out that all Legolas had done was a farce, that he was still loved. As the days had gone by, he knew it had been real. He didn't feel anything, didn't want anything anymore. Except one thing.  
  
He just wanted to know why.  
  
He rolled over onto his stomach -- Legolas had insisted on seeing his eyes during...what he did, and Harry had gotten another bruise on his cheek when he'd closed them. Opening his eyes had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. And then Legolas had laughed, and licked the tears off his cheeks, and said -- said how sweet he was. How beautiful. And what hurt the most was how Harry remembered Legolas saying those things before, in a different place.   
  
There was the sound of a key turning in the lock on the door, and Harry stared at it emptily.   
  
It wasn't Legolas, but a squat Orc with a thin chain. Without being asked, Harry tipped his head back and allowed the Orc to fasten the chain to his metal collar. The Orc gave a sharp tug on his leash to make Harry get to his feet, which he accomplished with only a small amount of dizziness. The Orc tossed him the bundle it had been carrying, which turned out to be a pair of scratchy, woolen pants. He put them on numbly, wincing when they touched his backside.  
  
As he limped out the doorway after the Orc, he realized where they were going, the place he hadn't been to since he'd first come to Barad-dur. Sauron's throne room.  
  
Harry felt the first stirrings of panic and fear and couldn't help but hope to God that Legolas wasn't there. He stumbled and fell to the ground, scraping his cheek against the rough stone floor. The Orc laughed and yanked the chain again to make him get up, but Harry's sewn-up leg wouldn't support him; he collapsed again to his knees after struggling halfway to his feet and tugged on the chain with both hands, trying to get the Orc to let go. The Orc refused and kept sneering and laughing at him, kept pulling on that damn leash. Finally Harry got back to his feet and let the Orc lead him.  
  
Harry felt a sense of deja vu as they came to a halt in front of the double, black doors. Instead of the voice commanding them to enter this time, however, the doors swung wide by themselves with a loud, ominous creak. The Orc, who apparently was not allowed in the throne room, put his hands on Harry's shoulders and gave him a shove. Harry tumbled into the room with a hoarse cry at the jolt of pain in his lower back; landing finally on his stomach in the middle of the room, he slowly pushed himself up to his hands and knees.  
  
"You should try not to break your playthings so fast, my pet."  
  
Harry shuddered in fear at the voice that echoed around the room. He didn't feel like he had strength to do anything else. He stared at the ground, a tiny tremble going through him at the next voice, which sounded faintly amused.  
  
"I do not believe he's quite broken yet, my master. I had thought he would be by now, but he is remarkably defiant. Perhaps you would like to help me." A hand came down to stroke Harry's hair from where he knelt on the floor, making him jump in suprise. Legolas laughed softly from above him. "You're coming along so nicely, little one. This would all stop if you would just agree to join us." His hand tightened in Harry's hair.  
  
Harry gathered all his courage up. And spat in Legolas's face.   
  
"Go to hell," he snarled. Legolas wiped the spittle off his cheek, shaking his head ruefully, and turned back to Sauron. Harry quickly looked back down at the floor.  
  
"See, my master? He remains defiant even though I have tried all I could to break his spirit." Legolas sounded like he was smiling. "It would be...educating...to watch you break him for me." Harry felt his eyes widen, and his mind blanked with fear as he imagined what methods Sauron would use to break him. He reached up and grabbed one of Legolas's hands with both of his.  
  
"Please," he whispered hoarsely. "Please don't give me to him. Please, Legolas!"  
  
For a moment, there seemed to be an acute look of mingled suffering and horror in Legolas's eyes, but then it was gone so fast that Harry wondered if he had just imagined it. Legolas remained silent and Harry turned his attention on Sauron.   
  
"Why?" He had meant it to be angry, but it sounded much too like a whimper.   
  
Instead of answering, Sauron got up from his throne and strode forward, expression cruelly considering. He tipped Harry's chin up with one long, pale finger and forced Harry to look into those blood-red eyes. "You have changed much since the last time I saw you," Sauron said softly. "You were always so arrogant, with the protection of your almighty Manwe. How fortunate for me that he cannot protect you now, Eonwe." His smile was cold, but his tone had become slightly bitter. "I loved you once."  
  
"You loved power!"  
  
Harry gave a startled jerk when he heard the words coming out of his mouth, in that same two-tone voice he'd heard himself use at Orthanc. Sauron, for just a moment, had a slightly unguarded look before it became cynical.  
  
"Of course. Olorin -- or as you know him, Gandalf -- must have been telling you things. You are not Eonwe, sweet, but I am sure he is trapped in there, somewhere." Sauron tapped a finger on Harry's temple. "How horrible that must be, to have another presence in your mind." And then he laughed, a coldly amused laugh that made Harry flinch. He thought he saw Legolas cringe, too.  
  
"Take him back to his cells," Sauron said softly without looking back at Legolas, keeping his red eyes fastened onto Harry's and stroking a finger down Harry's cheek. "Warm him up for me, and perhaps I will give him a visit later." He gave Harry one last, condescending look and turned around in a swish of black robes. Harry didn't bother to raise a protest as the Orc came to tug on his leash and lead him back.  
  
Later that day, when Legolas came with his whip and his new tortures, Harry didn't say a word, even as the blood dripped down his back and his legs and Legolas dripped sweat on him from above and made the cuts burn.  
  
___________________  
  
Harry had finally fallen to sleep when, not two hours later, the door to his cell swung open with a loud crash.   
  
The dim form of Legolas was silhouetted in the doorway.   
  
With a stab of panic, Harry shook his head. He couldn't do it. He couldn't, not again, please, he heard himself pleading.   
  
Legolas's eyes were slightly wild, and he was breathing hard. His hands were shaking. "Harry, go. Now."  
  
Harry stared at Legolas warily. Maybe this was a new type of torture. They'd tried other ways -- starvation, beatings, and...other, worse things. Besides, he didn't know if he could even stand now.   
  
Legolas looked frantic. He grabbed Harry's hand to haul him to his feet, and a sharp stab of pain went through Harry's lower body. He doubled over in a crouch on the ground. Looking concerned, Legolas reached out a hand to stroke Harry's cheek. Harry flinched.  
  
"Oh Harry...Harry, I'm so sorry."  
  
Harry looked up in shock. Legolas had an expression of horror on his face as he looked at Harry's bleeding, abused body. He seemed sincere. And his eyes seemed...lighter. With effort, Harry pulled himself to his feet despite his body's protests. The whip was nowhere in sight.  
  
"Go," Legolas whispered tightly, and pressed Harry's wand into the wizard's hand.  
  
Harry hesitated, and Legolas snarled, raising his fist and driving it into Harry's stomach. It felt like someone threw a brick at him. Through his pain, he looked up at Legolas in confusion. Legolas shut his eyes and pointed to the door.  
  
Tears filling his eyes, Harry ran.  
  
_________________________________  
  
Legolas slid down the door as he shut it after Harry. "Run, Harry" he said softly.  
  
/Run, lovely? Where can he go?/  
  
Shut up, Legolas growled. Touch him and I'll kill you.  
  
That voice turned mocking and oily. /But I already touched him, little one. And wasn't he...delightful. All that smooth skin and those lovely eyes. He put up such a wonderful struggle for me...or should I say, for you./ The voice laughed. /He looks beautiful when he has been betrayed./  
  
Shut up. It was a whisper this time. It didn't stop the voice.  
  
/And then my Orcs will find him, and who knows what they will do to him before they return him to me. I think I shall keep him for myself. You will never get a chance like this again, because I will be much, much more careful. I thought I could calm you by letting you have a taste of his body, but it seems you are much stronger than I had percieved./ The voice sounded amused. /Although I am just sure you didn't enjoy that in the least -- seeing him gasping under you again. Anyway, in short, my sweet, you have just made it worse./  
  
Legolas's eyes widened and, in his brief moment of weakness, that presence slithered its way back into the crevasses of his mind, the invisible fingers reaching out until they controlled him.  
  
Back in his cage, Legolas wept silently, hoping against hope that somehow Harry had found his way out.  
  
____________________________  
  
The tears in Harry's eyes were making it hard to see as he stumbled his way down the dark stone corridor, which was lit only by torches that cast a strange reddish glow. He held his wand out in front of him like a sword, his wand arm wavering, his legs weak. The calf that had been sliced open was burning steadily now with every step he took. Harry's breath was coming so hard and labored that he was scared someone would hear it. And then he'd be taken back to -- to him, and Legolas would -- he stifled a sob and continued his slow journey down the passage.  
  
Harry realized about ten minutes later that he had no idea where he was going, and that he could walk right into Sauron's throne room.   
  
There were voices coming up the corridor.  
  
  
  
Harry panicked. Thanking every deity he knew of that the passages weren't very well done, he crouched behind a craggy outcrop and waited. The rough Orc-voices grew nearer.   
  
  
  
When they were so close that Harry could see the torch light the Orcs carried, he leaned out of his hiding place and pointed his wand. He was about to whisper the worse hexes and curses he knew when without warning his wand flashed a brilliant white. When the glare receded, the Orcs were on the ground, unmoving.  
  
Harry stared out into the hallway, disbelieving. When it was totally apparent that the Orcs were dead, he crept out to them. Finding the smallest one he could, he stole a pair of pants and shirt for himself, even though he crinkled his noise at how filthy they were. They were too big still, but Harry didn't have time to search for a belt. He trudged his way on.  
  
Not an hour later, Harry began to panic in earnest. He remembered all too well that time spent in the stronghold of Saruman: the endless dark, the crushing despair and defeat, the feeling of hopelessness. The walls seemed to close in on him. Maybe being with -- with Legolas would have been a preferable fate than this wandering. Wandering until some Orc patrol found him, or until Sauron did.   
  
Then the thought struck him  
  
Apparation.  
  
Harry wanted to hit himself. Could he have possibly been any more stupid? He fixed a picture of the entrance to Cirith Ungol in his head, and lifted his wand.  
  
He abruptly let it back down with a sigh.  
  
He couldn't leave Legolas here. The thought of going back to Legolas made him want to retch, but there was no other way. He shut his eyes.  
  
"Shit," he muttered, and slowly picked his way through the tunnel back to his cell.  
  
_________________________  
  
Harry paused outside the door with his wand raised, even if it was trembling a bit. There was light coming from the small window on the door and he thought he heard Legolas speaking. He had to take several deep, long breaths before he was calm enough to put his hand on the door and swing it open. As soon as the door started creaking laboriously, the voice stopped.  
  
Legolas was sitting on the floor hunched over his knees, black hair obscuring his face; when the door opened his head flew up with an expression of startlement.  
  
"Harry, you -" he started, and then his face twisted and changed from startled to amused. "You didn't run," he finished smoothly.   
  
Harry kept his face stoic, but he felt a little part of him crumble inside from the disappointment of seeing Legolas not as he was when the elf had let Harry go. He had hoped...  
  
"I'm here to take you back to Gondor with me," he said, and was amazed at how steady he kept his voice. Legolas's black eyes widened in suprise. His smile was not a nice one.  
  
"Take me back with you, sweet? I do not think I can allow that, sadly. I'm afraid that you must stay here."  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Stupefy."  
  
Legolas crumpled to the floor, gracefully even while falling. Harry stared, astonished, at his unmoving body, sure that it could not possibly be this simple to escape Sauron's grip. Then again, he thought ruefully, he supposed he had once been as powerful as the Dark Lord himself. Maybe it wasn't just luck. That thought was very comforting.  
  
Harry went forward and grabbed Legolas's arm, hauling the unconscious elf to his feet and putting an arm around Legolas's waist to support him. At that moment the door swung open.  
  
Sauron was framed in the doorway.  
  
Harry froze in shock as Sauron raised his hand and a great ball of fire shot out towards him. With the fireball speeding towards him and only a few seconds between escape and a horrible death, he raised his wand and shouted "Apparate!"  
  
His last sight before the world around him spun was of a crimson flame.  
  
_____________________________  
  
A/N: Ahhhh, that was so fun. *hugs chapter* I think I made a writer's breakthrough -- It's getting to be really, really fun to write. I mean, before, I was just writing to write, you know? Now I'm writing because I want to see what I make them do (I never stick to story outlines). And it's a blast. Plus, I'm sure (or hoping) the chapters are much better than they were before. Funny -- it started getting really good once I just hopped off the Tolkien storyline nearly completely.   
  
By the way, most of this chapter was written while listening to the FFX soundtrack. S'why the mood switches so much. Am I a geek if I cried at the end of that game? 


	20. Breathe No More

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Twenty: Breathe No More  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Well, it's finally here. This chapter is the turning point of the story. I wrote this chapter entirely on a whim, and the story just sort of molded itself around this scene - which I had done a few months ago. I just saved in on my computer and waited until this very chapter. And oh boy am I excited.  
  
And I have made a decision, which may or may not be good for you guys. Since I am a devout Buccaneers fan, if the Bucs win the Superbowl today (the day I'm writing this), then the story will have a happy ending. You can guess the rest from there.  
  
One last thing - don't kill me.  
  
That being said, here is chapter twenty.  
  
____________________________  
  
"I've been looking in the mirror for so long  
  
That I've come to believe my soul is on the other side  
  
Oh the little pieces falling, shatter  
  
Shards of me  
  
Too sharp to put back together  
  
Too small to matter  
  
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces  
  
If I try to touch her  
  
And I bleed  
  
And I breathe  
  
I breathe no more."  
  
-Evanescence, 'Breathe No More'  
  
________________________  
  
The apparation went suprisingly smooth, and that was the first thought that entered Harry's mind after he landed rather hard on the ground.   
  
For a moment he kept his eyes closed so that he didn't have to see. See Legolas, see his blood that was probably still staining Legolas's tunic. He didn't want to see if Legolas was -- was better or not, whether his eyes were blue, whether his hair was blonde. To Harry, it felt rather like the feeling of watching an important Quidditch game and not wanting to see the ending, just in case it was a terrible loss. So instead Harry just waited to hear Legolas speak.  
  
Finally he gave up and opened his eyes. They immediately widened in suprise.  
  
Legolas had passed out.  
  
It made things a lot easier, he supposed. However, he was injured and his companion was unconscious, and he realized that he would not be able to walk very far as it was let alone walk while dragging a body.   
  
Harry gathered up whatever strength he had left and pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the sharp stabs of pain going through his back and lower body. There was a small point of pain on his shoulder where Legolas had bitten him. The stitches on his calf were hopelessly split and some were embedded into the muscle. Wavering on his feet, he whistled.  
  
"Arod," he called desperately, voice giving out almost right away. He had a foolish notion that was running through his mind. He had ridden Legolas's horse to Mordor and maybe when Legolas saw it, he'd get better.   
  
I can't do it alone, he thought bitterly.  
  
Harry had about given up when he heard the steady footfalls of a horse. The gray horse came into view, Harry almost collapsing in relief.   
  
Then came the problem of how to get Legolas onto the horse.  
  
With a considerable amount of pain and frustration Legolas was finally slumping over in the saddle with his black hair obscuring his face. Harry spent his last reserves of energy to hoist himself up behind Legolas, grab the reins, and dig his heels into Arod's flanks. The horse started running and Harry just let it go, knowing that it would return to wherever Shadowfax, and Gandalf, were. He rested his head on Legolas's back, feeling the soft, black fabric beneath his forehead, and felt the tears come.  
  
__________________  
  
Harry was jolted awake by a jerk in the body that his head was resting against. They were stopped on a low rise next to a flat plain, which Harry recognized as the wasteland that spread for miles around Mordor. It was dawn, and they had ridden all through the night; but it was a cold morning with the wind from the North. He sat up quickly and looked around, and Legolas was forgotten.  
  
Harry watched in horror, and awe, as the Captains of the West came at last to challenge the Black Gate and the might of Mordor, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest.  
  
Arod had stopped.  
  
Gandalf was at the head of that train with Shadowfax, and followed by six thousand men. Enough to protect him, enough to help him -- but they were heading to Mordor. Back to -- back to Sauron.   
  
Suddenly he was on his back in the dirt with Legolas snarling over him with a wicked-looking knife point pressed to the flesh right below his eye. There were streaks of blonde in his hair and specks of blue in his eyes, but at the moment there was no kindness on his face.  
  
He growled, but his lips writhed and when the next words came out they were delivered with a note of panic.  
  
"Get me to Gandalf - the closer He gets, the more he's driven out--" His face contorted again and the knife held against Harry's skin pressed in. A tiny drop of blood ran down his face and pooled in the little hollow under his throat. "I'll kill you and feed your corpse to the wargs, sweet," Legolas forced out, and lifted back the knife to drive in into Harry.  
  
Harry chose that moment to kick Legolas right below the ribs as hard as his protesting muscles allowed.  
  
Legolas doubled over, wheezing, and Harry took the opportunity to take the rope tied around his own waist and make makeshift handcuffs around Legolas's wrists. The elf shot him a poisonous glare.  
  
"Get on the horse," Harry snarled. Legolas sneered at him but obeyed, and Harry swung up behind him. Arod whinnied, trotting off to meet his master and Harry's worst fears.  
  
_______________  
  
Harry had caught the tail end of the solders when he heard the horn and the cry that seemed to echo through the plains and off the looming Towers of the Teeth. Harry wanted to scream, wanted to tell the heralds to shut up in case someone did come. In case it was Sauron and he knew -- and he -- His thoughts seemed to stutter and run in panicked circles.  
  
"Come forth! Let the Lord of the Black Gate come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested it's lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. Come forth!"  
  
Harry felt a whimper well up in his throat. Helpless, and feeling the struggles of Legolas grow more violent, he stood and watched as the Black Gate slowly opened with a loud clang. He was too far away to see exactly, but a dark, tall shape rode out of it followed by black-harnessed soldiery and a banner. The whimper turned into a wordless cry, and in an act of desperation and shock he heeled Arod forward as the riders looked on in amazement.  
  
The column of Rohan and Gondor soldiers became a blur as Arod galloped as fast as he could. Harry felt the building need to get to the front with no certain notion why, only that he was the cause of some trouble. And Legolas's words were echoing through his mind. /Get me to Gandalf. Get me to Gandalf. Get me to -- Get me --/  
  
It seemed like an eternity before he came to the front of the column. There was a small group assembled, Aragorn, Gandalf, Pippin, and some he did not recognize. His gaze was drawn like a magnet to the one whom Gandalf was talking to, the thing that was holding out a cloak and mithril coat that Harry recognized with some shock and sorrow as Frodo and Sam's.  
  
The man was not Sauron, as he had feared at first. It -- he -- was tall and cloaked in a dark cape, mounted on a darker horse. The eyes burned into Harry's own, shining like living flame. Harry cringed inside, for he knew who it was. Once when he had been brought to the throne room there had been another there, the Mouth of Sauron. He had smiled at Harry and stroked his blood-crusted hair, and Sauron had given Harry to him for a while as a reward for his victories. Harry suspected some of the scars given him by this sorcerer were still there. He thanked God that the lieutenant's attention was focused elsewhere.  
  
"...there his lieutenant shall dwell; not Saruman, but one more worthy of --" His words cut off short as his red eyes finally focused on Harry. Harry shut his eyes to get away from the knowing, leering gaze.   
  
"What might we have here, old man?" the Mouth asked, sounding half amused and half angry. "Have you been hiding this from us, or have you been so blind as to not know? He is wanted by Lord Sauron and sought after by many, and you have him here in your grasp?"  
  
Everyone's faces swung around to where Harry was sitting on his horse, eyes opened now and face blank. He looked into the eyes of everyone around him, seeing at first the shock and then the horror at his bloodied and bruised body. The scab on his face had split sometime earlier and was bleeding slowly.  
  
"Harry?" Pippin whispered. Gandalf looked poleaxed.  
  
A sly look entered the Mouth of Sauron's eyes. "A great reward was promised for the one who captured the rebel," he said slowly, those red eyes burning into Harry's own, the look on his face telling Harry exactly what -- who -- the reward was. The Mouth's attention shifted back to Gandalf, who was still staring at Harry with shock. "That will be part of our bargain, old man. Withdrawal of your pitiful armies, the lands east of the Anduin, the Gap of Rohan, the reconstruction of Isengard, and the surrender this boy. It should suffice to please my Lord." He crooked a finger to Harry, still with that horrible smile on his face. Something inside Harry snapped and he felt his hand moving to take hold of his wand in a steel grip.  
  
"I don't think so," he seethed, before anyone else could say a word, and heeled Arod forward to stop not more than five feet from the lieutenant. "I would rather die than go back to you or any other minion of Mordor, and I would see the world burn before I went back to your Lord. So you can just send this message back to him for me." He raised his wand with a bright ball of blue glowing on the end. "Surrender this," he snarled, and brought the wand down in a flash of red light.  
  
The glow receded as it had before, and when the glare had gone down enough for everyone to open their eyes, there was nothing left to be seen of the soldiers accompanying the lieutenant.   
  
Harry stared at the lieutenant in shock. His mind protested that he should have been dead, should have been long gone -- but at least Harry's spell had not gone quite without effect. The Mouth of Sauron had raised his arms before his head at the last moment and muttered a counterspell, but his forearms and biceps were badly burnt and blackened. Skin flaked off when he lowered them and glared at Harry in undisguised hatred.  
  
"That was a mistake," he spat. The sword flashed over Harry's throat and he knew from the sudden jolt of pain that it had been sliced open. Blood poured down his neck; falling from his horse, he could hear the lieutenant's laughter even as he felt his limbs go numb. Above him he heard Gandalf saying something and then a great roar of many voices, the blowing of trumpets, and he knew that the war had begun.  
  
Someone knelt down beside him.   
  
Harry forced his faltering mind to focus if only for a few moments on the horrified face of Legolas, whose hand was hovering over the gash in his throat and trembling. His eyes were a bright blue.  
  
Harry managed a weak smile. "You're back," he murmured, voice shaky and soft.   
  
"Oh - Harry, don't leave, please -" A few shining tears fell down Legolas's cheeks and onto Harry's forehead. Harry was, for some reason, stricken. His vision faded to grayness for a moment before it returned, wavery. He tried to move a hand to stroke Legolas's cheek and his arm wouldn't move, tried to speak and no words would come out. He felt like sobbing from a horrible mix of frusteration and love. The steady pain had finally left him in a numbed daze, through which agony seemed to penetrate in great bursts.  
  
Legolas's hand moved to smooth the hair back from his forehead and Harry hated himself for flinching, or trying to. He was too weak to move.   
  
"Give me a reason to forgive you, Legolas," he rasped, pleading, not wanting to die with this horrible rift between them. He felt a hand grasp his own tightly.  
  
"I -- I can't."  
  
Harry's mind was wandering, the only thing keeping him from dying was the sound of Legolas's voice in an endless murmer that he did not hear. Only when Legolas stopped speaking did he realize what the elf had said.  
  
"I can only promise you this. If you die, I swear that I will follow. Harry, I love you."   
  
Harry tried to open his mouth to speak, shocked, but in that moment he felt his final hold on life slip like sand through his fingers, and his vision went, for the last time, black.  
  
_____________________  
  
Legolas was too shocked to move as Harry's hand grew limp in his own. The shining green eyes were clouded with death, lips slack, skin already growing cold. It was hard to see through the tears in his eyes. The breaths that Harry had been labouring to take had finally stopped and his chest had stilled.  
  
It might have been delirium, but Legolas nearly swore he saw a shining silver mist escape Harry's body and disappear into the air.  
  
He bent down and pressed his forehead against Harry's chest, panting for air as he sobbed and the tears ran down his face to mingle with the blood that had gathered on Harry's tunic. He couldn't find the breath to speak.   
  
He looked up, face streaked with tears, to see Aragorn standing in front of him and fighting off the rush of Orcs that strived to reach the fallen elf. There was a pained expression on the Ranger's face and Legolas thought he saw shining, reddened eyes.  
  
The sun was gleaming red in a lonely sky. It was strangely fitting.  
  
Legolas bent over Harry again, closing his eyes. He lost track of time, of how long he had been silently crying over the body, until he heard a clear voice ring out, joined by many others:  
  
"The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"  
  
Something deep inside Legolas stirred; a powerful urge to kill something rose up inside him and he was on his feet, knives drawn and teeth bared. An Orc rushing at him pulled up in suprise as Legolas plunged the steel deep into his throat. He whirled away as the Orc dropped to the ground and stood over Harry's body.  
  
He fought for a long time. Any Orc unlucky enough to come near Legolas was cut down within seconds. Blood splattered Legolas's face, blood that was not his own.   
  
"Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom!"  
  
Gandalf's clear voice roused Legolas out of his deathly stupor. Even as the wizard spoke Legolas felt the ground rocking beneath his feet, and the Towers splintered and fell. A huge black shadow, flickering with fire, rose from the depths of Mordor to swirl about the air.  
  
"The realm of Sauron has ended! The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest."  
  
Legolas ignored the sudden hush of the army and gazed down at Harry, dropping his bloody blades to the ground. Slowly bending down, he closed Harry's eyelids, lifting up the boy into his arms and cradling him close. With determined steps, he walked to the hill-top where Aragorn and Gandalf stood.  
  
They turned to face him as he made his way steadily up, his face black with rage. Aragorn's expression turned horrified. Gandalf reached out with an unsteady hand to touch Harry's forehead.  
  
"Dead," Legolas said shortly. Aragorn bowed his head.  
  
"Do not give up hope, Legolas," Gandalf said softly. "The loved are unable to die, for love is immortality." Legolas stared at him in shock, and Gandalf climbed upon Gwahir's back in the moment of stunned silence. As Aragorn watched Gandalf fly to the East, Legolas stood still and stared at Harry's pale face. Something inside him crumbled into dust. He had no hope.  
  
"Take him back to Gondor," Aragorn murmured gently, laying a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "We will give him a burial fit for a king and honor fit for a Valar. He will not be forgotten. The host of Gondor will be there shortly, and so will I. Peace, my friend." He climbed onto his horse and galloped off.  
  
With a feeling of emptiness Legolas climbed onto the back of Arod, hoisting Harry up onto the horse in front of him. Hope had faded with the passing of the Age, and now it was all Legolas could do to find the will to stay alive.  
  
______________________  
  
A/N: Buccaneers won ;) 


	21. Empty Chairs and Empty Tables

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Twenty-One: Empty Chairs and Empty Tables  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Well, the response to that last chapter was exactly how I had expected it. I got a few angry "Fix it or else I'll dismember you"s, a few "I'm in shock but I'll trust you"s, a few "I'm hyperventilating/sobbing"s (which was actually the desired response, I'm ashamed to admit), and actually I got a few "that was intense/brilliant"s (which were unexpected but savored). In short - you guys have to trust me! BY THE WAY! Alchemy, when you leave a review, give me your email address (if you want to) so I can add you to my mailing list! You're one of my most faithful reviewers and I feel awful not sending you the mailing update. :)  
  
That being said, here is chapter Twenty one. Sorry it took so long and is so short. I'm rather fond of it, though.   
  
By the way, if ANYONE knows where the title and lyrics of this chapter is from, leave it in a review along with your email adress and the first five people will get the chapter early :) The song and where the song is from inspired this chapter.   
  
_______________  
  
"From the table in the corner  
  
They could see a world reborn  
  
And they rose with voices ringing  
  
I can hear them now!  
  
The very words that they had sung  
  
Became their last communion  
  
On the lonely barricade at dawn  
  
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me  
  
That I live and you are gone  
  
There's a grief that can't be spoken  
  
There's a pain goes on and on  
  
Phantom faces at the window  
  
Phantom shadows on the floor  
  
Empty chairs at empty tables  
  
Where my friends will meet no more."  
  
- It's a secret *grins*   
  
_______________  
  
It was the ninth day since the passing of the Third Age, and Legolas was dying.  
  
It had taken a suprisingly short period of time before the waning of life had become perfectly pronounced. Legolas had not spoken a word since Harry had died at the passing of the Age, and it had become worse since Gandalf had preserved Harry's body inside what looked like a glass casket. To all appearances Harry seemed to be sleeping, the horrifying gash on his throat closed by the wizard, the white scars of a whip disappeared from his skin.  
  
Legolas had not said a word, but after the mourning, his eyes had pleaded more eloquently than any words he could have said, and the casket was placed in the elf's chambers. Arwen realized that it might not have been quite wise of them.   
  
Legolas did not leave his room anymore. Food was quietly brought in which he ate without enjoyment or hunger, and he had slept only twice. It was if the spirit had been taken from his soul after Harry's life had been from his body.  
  
Arwen gazed at the other elf sorrowfully from the wooden doorway, taking in the crushed posture: Legolas was sitting, shoulders slumped and head bowed, perhaps two feet from the casket. His expression as he gazed into it was defeated.  
  
"Legolas, would you like something to eat?" she ventured carefully. Legolas neither straightened nor acknowledged Arwen's voice. "You have a guest, Legolas. Can he come in?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Legolas, please, it's your father -"  
  
The elf's expression didn't change. "No."   
  
Arwen stepped quietly into the room and sat down on the chair beside Legolas, who again didn't acknowledge her presence. She lifted a hand and brushed Legolas's hair out of his face gently. "Legolas, you cannot continue living like this. You refuse visitors, you barely eat, you refuse to leave the room. You have hardly even slept since Harry died."  
  
For the first time in days Legolas turned to look at Arwen with dull, red-rimmed eyes devoid of their usual brightness.  
  
"I can sleep when I'm dead," he said flatly.  
  
"Oh, Legolas -"  
  
Legolas turned his head back toward the coffin where Harry's body was preserved. "Leave me," he said quietly. "Tell my father to go back to Mirkwood." One slim, pale hand reached up and rested on the glass of the casket.  
  
Arwen sighed and turned to leave.  
  
"How can you stand it?" Legolas whispered.  
  
Arwen turned around and stared at him. "How can I stand what?"  
  
"How can you stand knowing that no matter what you do, Aragorn will die and you will be left alone forever?"  
  
Arwen closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. She had been afraid that he would ask the only question that she didn't know how to answer. But when she opened her eyes, she was pinned by a dispairing blue gaze, and she was reminded suddenly of the lost soul she had been not too long ago.  
  
"I can't, sometimes," she answered honestly. "I remember wondering if Aragorn would return a hero or a martyr, and I remember knowing clearly that there was no possibly way that I could live alone if he was dead. Even now I don't quite know what I will do when he dies. But Legolas, don't give up yet. Think of how Harry would have wanted you to live." Legolas flinched at the sound of Harry's name, and suddenly Arwen felt dried out and exhausted, empty. "I have heard that Valinor heals all wounds. If all else fails, go there and heal yourself."  
  
She started to walk out of the room and, as she neared the doorway, heard a whispered confession something not meant for her ears.  
  
"...do I still belong to you?..."  
  
Silence was his only answer.  
  
______________________  
  
As he heard the delicate footsteps of Arwen recede down the hall, Legolas leaned his head forward to rest on the cool glass of Harry's casket. He just couldn't wrap his mind around Harry's death - Harry couldn't be dead. Even thinking about Harry hurt, like a knife to his heart.  
  
Legolas sighed and stared through the glass at Harry's face, pale and calm in death. He knew the face by heart now, down to the tiny freckle right beside Harry's eye and the scar marring the smooth forehead. He longed to touch Harry's skin.   
  
"You were so precious to me," he whispered, and a tear slid slowly down his cheek and landed with a soft plink onto the glass. Harry had died thinking that Legolas betrayed him. It was almost too much to bear.  
  
He had stopped sleeping after the first night after the war because of the memories that invaded his sleep. He could still feel the leather of the whip in his hand, still hear the sound of Harry's screams, like an angel with its wings being severed.  
  
Most of all he remembered Harry's dying words, repeating themselves over and over in his tortured mind.  
  
/"Give me a reason to forgive you, Legolas."  
  
"I-I can't."/  
  
Shaking his head sadly, he leaned back. Maybe he should go to Valinor. He could be lonely here or over the Sea, so what difference did it make? At least he would be with his kin.  
  
Suddenly a thought entered his mind and he sat up, back ramrod straight. Heals all wounds....Valinor...and he suddenly recalled what Sauron had said to Harry, that Eonwe was trapped somewhere inside the wizard. And then he remembered the shining silver mist that had escaped Harry's body when he died.  
  
Legolas knocked over the cup of water sitting by his side as he raced out of the room.  
  
__________________________  
  
His breath was beginning to come in labored gasps as he raced across the castle grounds. His days without sleep and little food had begun to take its toll, and his chest felt too tight. It felt like he could barely breathe.  
  
"Gandalf," he managed to gasp. Gods, he had never been this weak before. His legs felt like they were made out of jelly. He wondered suddenly if he was dying, and for some reason the thought didn't bother him.  
  
Finally the throne room doors appeared at the end of the hall. Legolas staggered to them and leaned his arm on the handle, trying to catch his breath. He leaned his head on the door with a loud thump and heard footsteps.  
  
Aragorn opened the door just as Legolas's legs lost their last reserves of strength and he collapsed into the suprised king's arms.  
  
"Gandalf," he said, voice hoarse, and peered over Aragorn's shoulder at the throne room. Empty. "Where is he?"  
  
Aragorn blinked down at him with concerned blue eyes. "What are you talking about, Legolas?" He laid a gentle hand on Legolas's flushed forehead. "Oh, Legolas, you're sick. We need to get you back to your room."  
  
"No," Legolas said with a stronger voice, feeling a little bit more strength in his body. He pushed himself off from Aragorn's arms and looked him in the eyes, setting his jaw. "I need to find Gandalf right now, Aragorn. It's about -- about Harry. I think -"  
  
"Legolas, he's dead."  
  
Aragorn's eyes were filled with sympathy. Legolas wanted to rip them out. "Shut up," he snarled, and his fist connected with Aragorn's jaw and sent him sprawling onto his back.  
  
Aragorn got up slowly and rubbed a spot of blood off of his split lip. He didn't move and he didn't talk. He just stared at Legolas with pity.   
  
"Stop it!" Legolas screamed. He turned and raced out of the room. He heard Aragorn shout something behind him, but with grim determination he kept running out of the castle and down the roads of the city, until he was free of the houses and the dirt and the guilt.  
  
_____________________  
  
Finally his legs just would not run anymore.  
  
Legolas collapsed to his hands and knees, fisting his fingers in the Gondor grass, bowing his head and letting the wind blow his hair into his face. Great gasping sobs burst out of him. He felt the stickiness of tears roll down his cheeks.  
  
A gentle, gnarled hand laid softly on his shoulder.  
  
"I know, Legolas," the soft voice murmered. "Let it go."  
  
Like a child seeking comfort, Legolas turned into the welcoming embrace and buried his face in Gandalf's soft white robes, the kind arms wrapping around his shoulders only making him cry harder. He pounded his fists on Gandalf's shoulders and muffled his screams in Gandalf's cloak.   
  
"Why did he have to die, Gandalf?" he whispered when his tears finally died down. "It's not fair!"  
  
"I know," Gandalf sighed, stroking Legolas's back soothingly. "But do not give up hope yet."  
  
Suddenly Legolas was reminded of why he had been searching for Gandalf.   
  
He pulled back from Gandalf so he could look into the wizard's face. "Gandalf," he started cautiously, "while I was in Mordor, I heard Sauron talking to Harry. He said something about Eonwe being trapped inside Harry's body, and suddenly Harry began talking in the same voice he had used at Orthanc. And just today I was talking to Arwen, and she told me that Valinor heals all wounds. I was thinking that perhaps if we take Harry's body to Valinor, the gods could do something for him. Anything." He took a deep breath.  
  
Gandalf looked considering. "I do not see why not," he said slowly. "They have done much more miraculous things in my time. After all, they did bring me back to life." He chuckled.   
  
Legolas bit his lower lip and waited.  
  
Gandalf smiled. "Pack your things and choose your companions, Legolas," he said. "We will depart two days from now. I have not felt so happy in a while - he truly was a great friend."  
  
  
  
Trying to keep a smile off his face for the first time in months, Legolas stood up and raced back to the castle.  
  
_____________________  
  
Where am I?....  
  
Oh, little one. You have done so well.   
  
What?  
  
Rest now. Your friends are coming.  
  
But I -   
  
Sleep and forget, my young one. My child.  
  
_____________________  
  
"Are you sure about this?"  
  
"As sure as I can be, Aragorn," Legolas answered, smiling, and clapped a hand on his old friend's shoulder. He didn't know if he would ever return, or if he would even make it over the Great Sea to Valinor. But if he didn't restore Harry, none of that would matter anyway. Suicide was a noble thing.  
  
Aragorn, Arwen, and the rest of the Fellowship had accompanied him to as far as the Gray Havens. Legolas had decided to bring only a few of his own kin on the journey, Haldir and his brother Rumil. Gandalf and Gimli were also traveling to Valinor, though Gimli was decidedly nervous. Save Earindil, no people who were not of elf-kind had ever crossed the Sea.   
  
Legolas placed a hand softly on Harry's casket, resting beside him on the deck of his ship, and looked up at Aragorn. "I have to do this, Aragorn. He has to live." Every day that he is dead, I die a bit more, he added silently.  
  
Aragorn nodded sadly and embraced Legolas for possibly the last time, squeezing him tight. "I'll miss you, old friend," he whispered, and let go. What might have been a tear glimmered in his eye.  
  
Arwen stepped forward and took both of Legolas's hands in hers tightly. "Heal your wounds," she said. With a final, secret smile, she stepped back and let the others say their goodbyes. Eomer was particularly saddened by the loss of his comrade, and Pippin could not seem to stop sniffling. Merry held his hand and gave him a small kiss on the cheek, recieving a teary smile in return.  
  
Finally all the goodbyes were said, all the supplies were loaded, the sails were set. Legolas sat on the stern next to Haldir as they set out, silently, watching the sun set beneath the glistening ocean and dark mountains, and wondered if he would ever see those mountains again.  
  
___________________________  
  
"You really loved him, did you not." It wasn't a question.  
  
Legolas sighed and twisted the small gold band resting on his middle finger. The ring that Harry had, when he'd first come to Rivendell. The few days after Harry died, it had been like a brand upon his skin, and it had taken all of his control not to fling it off. Now he would not have parted with it for the world.  
  
"I did, Haldir," he said softly, closing his eyes.  
  
Haldir sounded gentle. "You will bring him to life, Legolas. If anyone could do such a thing, I know you could."  
  
Legolas leaned his head back against the boat's side, trying to distract himself from his own relentless, horrible thoughts. Thought's of Harry's death - of an angel lying dead at his feet --  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Even if I bring him back to life, he'll die again. He will die if he doesn't leave me."  
  
"What?  
  
"He had these -- pains. They hurt him so bad that he would just collapse and grit his teeth to keep from screaming --" Legolas clenched his fists. "If he doesn't leave Middle-Earth, he will die from them. Die, unless he leaves. Leaves me." All of a sudden he couldn't breathe, and all he could think about was never seeing Harry again. Never seeing Harry's jade eyes, never hearing Harry's deep breaths as he slept or Harry's eyelashes flutter on his cheeks as he dreamed. And it seemed -- impossible. It hurt.   
  
Tears leaked down his cheeks. He bowed his head, resting his forehead onto his knees. "Harry," he whispered. He was grateful that Haldir had left silently, so that the other elf couldn't see his emotions torn like this. No one needed to see him like this. "Harry, I...love you."  
  
____________________  
  
Legolas?...I love you...  
  
Please, Legolas, before I forget -  
  
Bring me to life...  
  
____________________  
  
A/N: see!! I am a nice person! XD now, leave reviews...*cough* or maybe i'll forget to be nice...*wiggles eyebrows* hehe, just kiddin'. I couldn't leave you guys hanging. But leave reviews anyway so that I don't get sad! ;) 


	22. Even In Death

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Twenty-two: Even In Death  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Wow - I'm totally blown away by the response to my last chapter. You guys are the best crazed, rabid fans a girl could ever have. Thanks, thanks, and more thanks! *big reviewer kisses and hugs!*  
  
The song was Empty Chairs and Empty Tables, from the Broadway play Les Miserables. Saw it last weekend at the Fox, and I was bowled over. Came home and immediately wrote chapter Twenty-one. *grins*   
  
In case you guys get confused because you haven't read the Silmarillion, here's the deal: Valar are the gods of Middle earth. Yavanna is the goddess of growing things, Nienna is the goddess of sorrow and wisdom, and Mandos is the god who pretty much controls the spirits of men. Manwe and Varda are sort of the king/queen. Valinor is the city where they live and where the elves in Middle-earth go to. That should be all you need to know -- if you want to check it out, just look in the Silmarillion.  
  
For once, I have nothing else to say. So, here is chapter Twenty-two of Shadow of a Doubt: Even In Death.  
  
____________________  
  
"Give me a reason to believe you're gone  
  
I see your shadow so I know they're all wrong  
  
Moonlight on the soft brown earth  
  
It leads me to where you lay  
  
They took you away from me   
  
But now I'm taking you home..."  
  
-Evanescence, "Even In Death"   
  
__________________________  
  
Legolas watched in horror as the blood pouring from Harry's torn throat slid slowly over his hands. Harry's skin was pale, his eyes a sickly shade of green. A small stream of blood escaped the corner of his mouth and trickled down his chin. He coughed and tried to speak.  
  
"Legolas," he choked out. "Why?"  
  
Shaking his head in disbelief, with tears running down his cheeks, Legolas brushed Harry's hair back from his pale face gently.  
  
"Legolas!" The voice coming from Harry's throat was different, deeper. Suddenly, Harry's skin rippled grotesquely and his hand seized Legolas's wrist in an iron grip. In the space of a blink, Sauron was lying on the ground and slowly starting to sit up, smiling evilly. His thumb rubbed Legolas's wrist.  
  
"Hello, my pretty one," Sauron whispered into Legolas's ear. A sound escaped Legolas's throat before he could stop it, a small, bewildered cry of pain as Sauron's nails dug into his wrist, creating tiny red furrows.  
  
Legolas started to frantically try to pull his wrist out of Sauron's grip. "Let go of me," he said, a little hysterically. "Let go!"  
  
Sauron leaned forward. "It seemed like you enjoyed yourself enough last time I saw you, sweet," he said, and licked Legolas's bottom lip. "Especially with your little worthless, broken toy." The sly insinuation left no doubt in Legolas's mind who Sauron was talking about.   
  
Before Legolas even knew that he'd moved, his free hand come up and punched Sauron as hard as he could.  
  
Sauron's smile faded and his thumb pressed deep into Legolas's wrist, making the elf's hand go numb. "You're going to regret that, lovely," he snarled and leaned forward, sinking his teeth deep into Legolas's shoulder. With a gasp, Legolas pulled back and distinctly heard the ripping of flesh. He shot his hand out to squeeze Sauron's throat, growling. "I hate you. I hate you!" he screamed. "I hate you!"  
  
___________________________  
  
With a start, he woke up and stared down in dismay. Rumil lay under him with Legolas's hand slowly choking him to death, gasping and trying to pry off the hand that was killing him. Legolas let go as if Rumil's skin burned him, backing into a corner of the ship's cabin. Rumil got up slowly, and he rubbed his throat while staring at Legolas as if the other elf were mad.   
  
"I'm sorry, Rumil," Legolas said softly. "I -"   
  
Rumil stopped him with a kind smile and a hand on his shoulder. "I understand," he said simply and stood, offering Legolas a hand. "We have arrived at Valinor."  
  
___________________________  
  
Legolas's first thought was that he had gone blind.  
  
As soon as the cabin door had opened, a bright light permeated his thoughts and his eyes like the shining of a hundred stars. He raised a hand in front of his eyes to shield out that beautiful, terrible light, squeezing his eyes shut desperately. What's happening to me? he thought, horrified.  
  
You may lower thine arm, little brother.  
  
It seemed like a voice coming from everywhere and nowhere, at the same time. It was faintly feminine and amused.  
  
"Oh gods," he moaned and dropped to his knees, his hand still covering his eyes.  
  
None of that, Legolas.   
  
A soft hand touched his head. Legolas got to his feet slowly and warily took his hand from his eyes. It was then that he got his first look at a Valar.  
  
She was tall, robed in green, with piercing jade eyes and long golden hair, beautiful beyond words. A faint white light seemed to emanate from her in pulses.  
  
"Kementari," he breathed, eyes wide in wonder. Yavanna smiled gently with perfect lips and spoke again. It was different somehow, though; and Legolas had a feeling that if she had spoken like that any longer, in that eerie Voice, he would have been driven out of his mind.  
  
"Yes," she said simply. "I have heard of thy voyage to our eternal city, and I have also heard of thy humble sacrifice for your love. It is here that thou shalt be both rewarded and restored."  
  
Legolas felt shame and guilt warring for dominance. He cast his eyes to the side so that he didn't have to look into her caring eyes. "I did nothing worthy of reward," he whispered.   
  
Yavanna's laugh tinkled like water flowing merrily over rocks. "But you have, child," she said. "Come with me and you may rest."  
  
Suddenly, Legolas was reminded of Harry's dead body, preserved and lying on the boat where he tarried even now. Who knew if his time was running short? Legolas cleared his throat, almost humiliated to have to ask something of this wonderful being. "Yavanna...I did not come here to rest. I came here to -- to ask a favor of you. Of Mandos, or Manwe. You see, I --" He found he could not continue. Tears welled up in his eyes.  
  
Yavanna's smile faded. "Oh, child. You have done so well, and I will present your request before my lord." Her eyes were kind. "Come. After you rest, I shall call Nienna. She will heal thy wounded soul."  
  
Even as Yavanna spoke, Legolas felt his tentative grasp on consciousness fail from his days of grief, anger, and little sleep. He felt blackness engulf his mind and his knees buckled, and he faintly felt Yavanna's soft arms catch him as he fell.  
  
____________________________  
  
"Child, wake." A cool hand laid on Legolas's flushed brow and sent a shiver of healing through his body. He cracked his bloodshot, tired eyes open slowly. They widened quickly in disbelief at the ethereal being beside him.  
  
Nienna sat next to his bed, her pale and sadly beautiful face drawn in concern. Her lovely gray eyes held a thousand sadnesses and yet the sight of them filled Legolas with a grain of hope. She gave him a sad smile, her white teeth glistening behind pale pink lips.  
  
"Nienna," he whispered, and she touched his hand with her own slender fingers.  
  
"I know that thou hast been soul wounded," she said in a soft, husky voice. "I venture seldom from the halls of Mandos, but thy sacrifice has drawn me here. Thy sacrifice, but also his."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes in pain. He knew of the sacrifice Harry had given him - rescued him from Barad-dur even when Legolas had nearly killed him. And Harry had died from it. He looked up at Nienna through tears. "I made no sacrifice," he said harshly. "I killed Harry as sure as if I had cut his throat myself."  
  
"Oh, child," Nienna said with a voice full of tears, and Legolas looked up, suprised. "I can see how thou loved him. I know thou loved him."  
  
Legolas felt tears streaming down his face. "It doesn't matter how much I loved him. In the end, he died and I could do nothing to stop it." His voice was choked. "And he died thinking that I had done -- that I had enjoyed what I did to him. That I didn't love him."  
  
Nienna put both hands on Legolas's cheeks and stared into his soul with her deep gray eyes. "He loved you," she said carefully, "and you loved him. He knew that and you do as well, child."  
  
Disbelieving, Legolas shook his head. "After what I did to him, he would have been mad to think that I loved him. After I just --"   
  
Nienna took her hands from Legolas's face and took one of his hands in hers. "Let it go, Legolas. Tell me and feel thy burden lift."  
  
Legolas opened his mouth, intending to tell Nienna that it was none of her business, but to his suprise a stream of words flowed out, punctuated here and there by a gasping sob. In a rush, he told her of his imprisonment by Sauron, the torture and the waiting and finally the rape of his mind. It was a bit harder to force out the next part, of Harry's coming to Barad-dur. Reluctantly he told her of Harry's torture at his own hands. The beatings, the rapes, and those five words that had so obviously been a knife to Harry's heart - "I could never love you."  
  
By the time he'd wound up his tale with Harry's death, he could hardly breathe for the huge sobs being torn from his throat. To his suprise, he felt her slim arms wrap around his shoulders, coaxing out the tears, the days of grief, and the pain. Restored, Yavanna had called it, and Legolas had no doubt that Nienna was doing just that - restoring his spirit.  
  
By the time he felt he could cry no more, the sun had set behind the mountains. He leaned back and Nienna let him go from the circle of her warm, comforting arms.   
  
Suddenly there was a knock on the door of the small room. A stern-looking elf entered and, with a deep bow, handed Nienna a small scroll. As the elf left and Nienna read the letter, a small smile graced her lips. She glanced up at Legolas.  
  
"I have received news of Harry."   
  
Legolas sat up straight, desperate.  
  
"He is to be brought to life."  
  
With a strange fluttering in the pit of his stomach that was a mixture of relief, fear, and anticipation, Legolas collapsed back on the bed. "Now?" he asked hoarsely. Nienna's smile grew.  
  
"Any time, child," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "We are all waiting for thee."  
  
___________________________  
  
"I cannot do this, Haldir."  
  
The corner of Haldir's eyes crinkled as he smiled slightly. "Of course you can. This is what you have risked your life for. Why are you frightened now?"  
  
Legolas shifted his weight. "I just -- when Harry wakes up and remembers what I did to him, all the things that --" He broke off, shaking his head. "He will not forgive me. He cannot forgive me."  
  
"If he loved you as much as you obviously love him, then he will forgive you, Legolas. Trust me. He will --"  
  
Haldir's sentance was cut off abruptly. An elf dressed in shining clothing was decending the pearly white road leading up to where the Valar held their council in the Mahanaxar, the Ring of Doom. The elf sketched a short bow and stared straight into Legolas's eyes. "Lord Manwe and Lady Elbereth bid you come with me, now."  
  
Legolas drew a breath. "What about --"  
  
"The boy is in Mahanaxar already."  
  
As Haldir and Legolas fell in behind the elf, Legolas shut his eyes for a moment. "Gods, give me strength," he whispered fervently. A soft breeze ruffled his hair gently.  
  
The trek into the middle of the city went far too quickly. Legolas felt panic set in and tried to calm himself down, but no matter what he did, he could still hear himself laughing over the sound of Harry's pained cries and the crack of a bloody whip. He clenched his teeth, each step coming hard-pressed and each breath feeling forced.   
  
The small group turned a corner, and the sheer light and beauty forced Legolas to his knees. Instead of covering his eyes, he shut them tightly, feeling the light penetrate his eyelids right to the back of his skull. A wave of peace washed over him suddenly.  
  
Legolas opened his eyes, squinting, and saw Haldir on his feet beside him, mouth agape.   
  
On thy feet, Legolas Greenleaf!  
  
The power of Manwe's Voice drove him to his feet in a rush. He opened both eyes fully, and found himself staring.  
  
All fourteen Valar were sitting in a circle around the Ring. Legolas saw Yavanna and Nienna sitting to the right of Manwe, who was shining so brightly that Legolas could barely look at him. The combined beauty and might of the Valar almost made him collapse.  
  
Suddenly his attention was drawn to something infinitely more precious in his mind.  
  
There was a raised wooden bier in the center of the circle, and resting as if sleeping on it was Harry. He was wrapped in a shining dark green robe, the color only serving to bring out the deathly paleness of his skin. Legolas involuntarily took a step forward.  
  
"Stop, child."   
  
Legolas glanced at Varda and then back at Harry; mesmerizing as her beauty was, his gaze seemed to be drawn to the figure on the bier. Varda smiled.  
  
"I understand that you have lost something dear to you," she said softly, her bell-like tones ringing across the courtyard. Legolas nodded with his heart in his throat. A movement at the side of the Ring drew his attention, and with a fair amount of suprise Legolas recognized Gandalf, in his gleaming white robe. Another voice, booming and seeming to fill every corner of Legolas's mind, spoke.  
  
"We have seen thy sacrifice and thy devotion. After much council, we have deemed thee worthy of our gift."   
  
Legolas could not speak, so riveted on Harry was he. He could hear every heartbeat loudly in his ears.  
  
"I assume we have thine eternal gratitude," Aule murmured, sounding amused. Legolas nodded faintly.  
  
Mandos stood up, cloaked in a robe of deep blue. His long black hair seemed to swirl him with no breeze. "Let us not waste more of thy time," he said in a deep, husky voice. He walked to the bier and raised his arms. The entire courtyard grew silent with anticipation.  
  
White, whispy swirls came from Mandos's outstretched hands , creeping into the heavens and gradually filling the sky. Legolas put his hands up to his ears, hearing horrible screams and beautiful songs, and realized that the white sky above him was filled with spirits.   
  
From the whirling mass of souls came one, silvery whisp, floating down from the sky and gradually forming into the shape of a body. Harry's body. Legolas stared at it, transfixed.  
  
Mandos thrust his hands down below his waist, and the spirit flew down and sunk into Harry's body. The sky of souls disappeared. The pale, sickly pallor of Harry's skin was gone.  
  
Mandos turned silently and glided back to his chair, sitting down and watching Harry with dark eyes.  
  
Harry's chest moved slightly as he breathed. His eyelashes fluttered.  
  
Legolas gave a small cry and ran forward; he pressed his ear to Harry's chest, and he heard the steady thump of a heart beating. His own heart raced. Harry shifted slightly, one of his arms coming up to rub at his eyes and run fingers through his hair. Legolas felt like holding Harry and never letting go.  
  
The crack of a whip echoed through his mind.  
  
Legolas took a step back quickly, desperately watching Harry sit up. As Harry opened his eyes Legolas drank in every detail of him -- bright green eyes, ruffled black hair -- beautiful. He had never looked so beautiful. Harry looked around the courtyard with a strange expression, puzzled and a little dazed.  
  
He glanced over at Legolas and smiled; Legolas felt his heart stop in his chest. Harry opened his mouth to speak.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
________________________  
  
A/N: Well? Whatcha think? The story's drawing to a close...makes me sad. Only about five or so more chapters. :( 


	23. Belong

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Twenty-three: Belong  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Well, I'm happy to say that all the lovely reviews you've left me have given me a stroke. Jeez, you guys, 300!!!! You guys can't imagine how encouraging you've all been. I don't know how to say thank you enough! Um, thank you x 1000000?   
  
There is a reason for all the angst in this chapter. And you can blame it all on Kingdom Hearts. I just finished that game about five minutes ago, and let me tell you, I have never cried so hard in my entire life. I mean, I was so emotionally attached to all those characters ESPECIALLY Riku, who I love. I could not believe what those goddamn people at Squaresoft ended the game the way they did. I called my best friend, who's also playing KH and is at the same spot as me, and I cried to her on the phone. I hate that damn game!! *wails* ....I think I might be a bit of a wimp.   
  
Notice that the most angsty, heartwrenching chapters of mine come out right after I beat a game that has a horribly sad ending (ie. KH and FFX)? Just because of the ending to that damn game, I'm going to write some sort of Riku tribute soon.  
  
Anyways, here is Chapter Twenty-three of Shadow of a Doubt: Belong. I'm going to go cry some more.   
  
_________________________  
  
"I have often dreamed  
  
Of a far-off place  
  
Where a great warm welcome  
  
Will be waiting for me  
  
Where the crowds will cheer  
  
When they see my face  
  
And a voice keeps saying  
  
This is where I'm meant to be  
  
I will find my way  
  
I can go the distance  
  
I'll be there someday  
  
If I can be strong  
  
I know every mile  
  
Will be worth my while  
  
I would go most anywhere  
  
to feel like I belong."  
  
-Go the Distance, from the Disney movie Hercules (which made me cry)  
  
_________________________  
  
It took a few moments for Harry's words to sink in, but when they did, Legolas stumbled backwards off of the bier and nearly fell. "What?" he whispered, barely audible even to himself. He could feel those green eyes boring into his own curiously.   
  
Harry's dazed look slid off like water and he sat up, back ramrod straight, and narrowed his eyes.   
  
"Where am I?" he said, looking around and then straight at Legolas. "And who are you? Is this -- is this one of Voldemort's tricks?" Harry gripped the sheets covering the rock bier tightly, knuckles going white. Legolas glanced at Manwe who was sitting in his throne, completely calm and staring placidly at Harry.  
  
Voldemort? Legolas mouthed silently, completely confused. Harry seemed to notice his hesitation and frowned.  
  
"Aren't you Death Eaters?" he said uncertainly, glancing at Legolas and then at Manwe. "Aren't you...aren't you...oh!" Suddenly Harry grabbed his head in both hands and fell off the stone bier, collapsing into a heap at the bottom of it. "Oh, shit," he moaned, and he dug his fingers into his skull.   
  
Legolas snapped out of his dazed trance and covered the distance between himself and Harry in a heartbeat. He grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled the boy into a sitting position, noticing Harry's heavy breathing and the cold sweat breaking out all over his body. "Harry?" he said frantically, shaking Harry's shoulders.  
  
Calm yourself.  
  
Legolas looked up at Varda in a near panic, but a single, serene look from her shining eyes drove a little of the fear from his mind.   
  
He is only regaining his memories. Leave him be a moment, child.  
  
Legolas nodded faintly, and he took his hands from Harry's shoulders reluctantly. Without Legolas's support, Harry slumped over again, twitching a little, and every now and then issuing a tiny whimper from behind his clenched teeth. Besides that, Harry looked remarkably still.  
  
Legolas could not stand it anymore. He reached out a hand and lightly touched Harry on one shoulder.   
  
"NO!"  
  
Harry shrunk against the side of the stone bier, shaking violently. His eyes looked like enormous wounds. Legolas quickly withdrew his hand, though it trembled with the effort.   
  
"Harry, what is wrong?" he said quietly.  
  
Harry either could not or would not answer. He stayed curled up on the ground, staring at Legolas, looking frightened and a little angry, withdrawn into himself. Legolas could sense a little bit of panic on his face. The space between them was nearly tangible. Legolas tried again. "Harry, I -"  
  
"Shut up, Legolas."  
  
Harry's voice was hoarse, and his voice gave on the end of the sentence. He stared at Legolas as one would a viper, poised to attack, and he curled into a tighter ball, burying his head in his hands. "Don't," he said, voice muffled.  
  
  
  
"Harry, I'm --"  
  
He never got to finish his sentence. Harry drew his face out of his hands, no traces of tears on his face. Only anger.  
  
"You what, Legolas? What in the world can you possibly say to me that will make me forgive you? To make me forgive what -- what you did, what you said --" He stopped, voice choking in his throat, and glared. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more tired than anything else. "Sauron told me that you...that you came to him, willingly. That he barely had to persuade you to go to him, and then you said -- you said that you didn't love me." Tears stood in his green eyes, along with betrayal and hurt. Legolas shifted his gaze to the ground. He knew that to protest his innocence would sound false.  
  
"I don't know what to say," he whispered.  
  
"That makes two of us," Harry snapped, and promptly broke into tears. Legolas folded him into a hug, ignoring Harry's struggles, and held him until he quieted down. A tiny grain of hope rose deep inside him.  
  
It was crushed not a second later by the muffled words that Harry muttered into his cloak.  
  
"I want to go home."  
  
A moment later Harry was asleep in his arms.  
  
Legolas looked up at Manwe and Varda in despair, his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears. "He said that he --"  
  
We know, child. And you must realize that you cannot keep him here against his will.   
  
Legolas brushed the soft hair out of Harry's relaxed, peaceful face and touched the full lower lip with his thumb. "I know," he sighed, placing a kiss on Harry's forehead. He traced the thin white scar around Harry's throat thoughtfully. "I know."  
  
_________________________  
  
God, what should I do? Harry wondered, and nervously picked at the hem of his blanket. He was sitting in someone's bed, in someone's home. He couldn't bring himself to care whose -- more likely than not some elf who will never see me again, he thought, and sighed.   
  
What he was trying to do, he admitted to himself, was attempting to keep his mind off what was in front of him. Literally.  
  
Legolas was slumped over in a chair at the foot of his bed. The elf's head was resting on his chest, and even though his eyes were open, his breaths were deep in his slumber. Harry had to grip the bedsheets in an effort not to do Legolas physical violence.  
  
Why not? he thought, a little nastily. He did me enough.   
  
Because I love him, that's why.  
  
Harry let go of the sheets and lay back down. "I don't love him," he whispered. "I don't. I can't love him after  
  
(i could never love you)  
  
what he did to me. I don't." The resulting wave of emotions from saying those words made him shut his eyes tightly. "I'm going to leave," he said, and grit his teeth. "No way in hell am I going to stay here with him." He opened his eyes and let out his breath in a whoosh. Legolas had not stirred from where he sat. Suddenly, the air in Harry's room seemed to press down on him.  
  
"I need a walk," he muttered to himself, and with limbs seemed to be made from lead, put on his cloak and left.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Strangely enough, the streets of Valinor were quiet after dark. It was hours past sunset, and all the elves had left the roads, leaving the city blissfully quiet. Only one person's footsteps echoed off the stone walls.  
  
A rock lay in the middle of the road, and Harry kicked it halfheartedly.   
  
God, had it only been less than a year since he'd come to Middle-earth? A year.   
  
How much had happened back home? Had he been forgotten? Not likely, he thought. I know I won't be forgotten, at least. He wondered with a sinking heart if Ron had found another. His class would be graduated by now, off getting jobs and getting married.   
  
"I want to go home," he said sadly to the silent stone walls.  
  
Do you, child?  
  
Harry whirled around and found himself face to face with none other than Nienna, her beautiful gray eyes staring into his own.   
  
"Yes," he ground out. "I do."  
  
Why?  
  
The question seemed deceptively simple. So then why, Harry wondered, do I not have an answer? He searched through his mind and found nothing. He shrugged.  
  
"Why should I stay?"  
  
Legolas loves thee.  
  
That hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt angry tears in the corners of his eyes. One slid down his cheek slowly. "Like hell Legolas loves me. I don't know if you get what he's done, but   
  
(let me hear you scream)  
  
even if it was a trick and he loves me, I don't love him." Harry folded his arms across his chest and tried to keep the pain he felt out of his expression. There was a hollow ache in his chest, and in his heart he felt a great void.  
  
Nienna's face was a combination of pity and sadness.   
  
I know that thou hast been wounded, child. Yet you must look inside yourself and wonder if the creature who has hurt thee was the one who so loved thee. Hast thou noticed how Legolas has changed? Before thou came to our world, he was withdrawn, emotionless, cold. Look at him now, young one. He has found love, and that has changed him in ways he cannot imagine.  
  
"I don't even know if there's any way to go home. Maybe I'm stuck here forever. Maybe --"  
  
Nienna walked forward and laid a cool hand against Harry's cheek. She smiled at Harry's lost expression.   
  
If you decide to leave, Manwe will send thee home. As for thy decision -- there is no right choice, but thou must make one. Willst thou stay, or willst thou leave? You cannot do both.  
  
"I can't decide," he said softly. Nienna smiled again.   
  
You must look inside thy soul.   
  
After Nienna left, Harry walked slowly to the shore of the Great Sea, and stood still, looking at the waters, for a long, long time.   
  
___________________________  
  
Legolas was jolted from his uneasy sleep when a soft hand touched his shoulder. Coming back to awareness, he noticed the rising sun, the empty bed, and Harry, standing in front of him.  
  
"I want to go home."  
  
That hurt almost as much as the first time Harry had said it. "Are you sure?" Legolas asked quietly, hopefully.   
  
Harry looked unsure for a split second, but the next moment his expression was resolute. "I'm sure," he said, a touch sadly.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes. You cannot imprison him, he thought to himself miserably. And then: Gods help me let him go. "I'm sorry," Legolas whispered. "Please believe me. I'm so sorry, Harry."  
  
Harry's firm expression crumbled. "So am I, Legolas." He took one step backwards, gazed fixed on Legolas's own, then turned and walked out of the room.  
  
___________________________  
  
He has requested to leave Arda, my lord.  
  
A sigh.   
  
I expected as much, Nienna. And we must honor his request...yet...  
  
What, my lord?  
  
I think I shall leave with him a gift.  
  
____________________________  
  
"I was told of your decision, Harry."  
  
Harry was only a little suprised at the sad voice behind him. "Are you going to try and talk me out of it, or what?"   
  
"No, I will not. However, neither will I convince you that the resolution you made was the right one." After a long pause, Gandalf sighed and spoke again, sounding a touch sad. "Are you sure you are making the right choice, Harry?"   
  
"I -- I'm sure." He wished that he truly felt the conviction he put into his voice. The spare room he had found, adjacent to his own, suddenly felt too small. His shoulders slumped a bit more, and he almost wished he could just sink into the chair he sat in when Gandalf spoke again.  
  
"You do know, of course, that Legolas loves you. I realize what you have been through, and you have all the reasons in the world to have doubt. And you will never hear Legolas admit what has happened to him -- he will apologize, and do anything you ask, except explain what caused him to hurt you. He has too much pride."  
  
Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration and a little bit of guilt. "I never really asked him for an explanation, maybe because I never wanted to hear one. There isn't a point to hearing what happened to him, even if he would tell me. If I stayed, nothing would ever be the same again."   
  
"He hurt you."  
  
Harry cast an incredulous glance at Gandalf.   
  
"And yet, you still love him."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to protest, and the words would not come. In the face of such blunt accusations, he could not find a leg to stand on, nor even begin to argue. All he knew was that he did not want to stay. But to never see Legolas again  
  
(if you die i swear i will follow)  
  
was nearly unimaginable, and it hurt. He felt Gandalf's hand on his shoulder, and with a heavy heart finally grasped that no matter what realizations he came to, he would eventually leave to his own world.   
  
"I'm leaving, Gandalf."  
  
The old wizard said nothing, but his eyes, filled with sadness and pity, said everything he did not.  
  
__________________________  
  
Harry cautiously looked into the doorway of his room, peering around the corner. "Legolas?" he said softly. The elf was slumped over in his chair, his face in his hands. At the sound of Harry's voice, he looked up, and Harry saw the redness around his eyes. He felt a small prick of guilt. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg -- he didn't know which -- but Legolas stopped him with a raised hand.  
  
"I know," he said quietly. As Harry watched miserably, a crack appeared in Legolas's calm as the elf's lips started trembling minutely. He thought back at what Nienna had said about the great change he'd brought in Legolas, and realized that it was true; a short time ago Legolas would have never shown such vulnerability. Harry wondered heavily if the change he'd brought was good.  
  
Legolas's calm broke and he stood, face full of desperation, and took Harry's face in his hands gently. "Please, Harry...please...." he whispered.  
  
Harry's eyes were fastened on Legolas's sorrowful blue eyes, and he knew what was being asked of him. "I can't stay, Legolas, I..." He trailed off, uncertain.  
  
Legolas shut his eyes. "Let me just have one moment -- let me believe you want to stay --" he said, a little desperate, and pressed his lips to Harry's own.   
  
Harry had never been kissed -- not by Ron, not by Draco -- like he was being kissed now. It was like Legolas was trying to take out a piece of his soul and keep it for his own; and the emotion was so powerful and aching that Harry felt bitter tears slipping down his cheeks. He lifted a hand to Legolas's face and found a similar wetness there.  
  
He pulled away, not able to look at Legolas or how beautiful he was, lips red and bruised against pale skin. "Please don't do that again," he said, so softly Legolas had to lean forward to hear it.  
  
"Why not?" Legolas's voice was full of forced serenity.  
  
He hesitated before answering. "I think -- I think if you did that again I might have to stay."  
  
Legolas raised his eyes to Harry's own, and Harry cursed at the hope in them that he would have to break. "You mean --" Legolas began, but Harry cut him off.  
  
"I have to leave. I have to, Legolas! Please...please, understand me. I have to go back to Ron and Hermione --"  
  
At the sound of Ron's name, Legolas's face became dangerously closed off and his voice was cool. "I understand." he said icily, voice cracking a bit and giving away his emotion. "I understand perfectly." He turned and walked, silent and graceful, out of the room.  
  
_______________________________  
  
Art thou sure?  
  
Legolas watched stonily as Harry hesitated, then nodded firmly. His wand was clenched in a white-knuckled grip. His body was thin from his weeks of imprisonment, so much that the pants and tunic he'd borrowed earlier hung off his lean frame. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined. He had never looked so beautiful.  
  
Manwe didn't sigh, but his demeanor was clearly disappointed.   
  
I shall give to you what you ask, a way back to your world.   
  
He seemed about to say more, but stopped, and beckoned Harry forward. When Harry stepped uncertainly closer, Manwe pressed a small glass orb into his hand. Harry stepped back, and stopped.  
  
"My lord, if I may ask...?"  
  
Manwe nodded.  
  
"How did I come to this world?"  
  
It was the first time Manwe had smiled that day, a gentle, beautiful thing. I believe the Valar have correspondence with someone in your world.   
  
Harry looked as confused as Legolas felt, but Manwe gestured to the clear ball in his hand.  
  
Hold it, and think of your home. Those were the only instructions Manwe gave, but Harry gripped the orb as if it were his last hope, and nodded. He gave a last, sorrowful glance in Legolas's direction.  
  
In a flash of green light, he was gone.  
  
Legolas stared at the spot where Harry had been only moments before, not noticing the slight shaking of his hands.  
  
A hand on his arm startled him out of his anguished daze. "Oh, Legolas, I am sorry," Gandalf murmured gently. Legolas felt his lips draw back over his teeth in a grimace.  
  
"I'm not," he snarled. "I don't care, I don't --"   
  
His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, rocks digging into his palms. His body shook helplessly under the force of his sobs. "Harry," he whispered through his tears.   
  
He didn't know that, worlds away on the stone cold floors outside of the Gryffindor common room, there was a boy with a scar and a green orb, sobbing as hard as he.  
  
________________________  
  
"Harry?! Oh God, Harry!"  
  
Harry remained where he was, prostrate on the floor, tears flowing down his cheeks. The glass ball was clutched tightly in his hand. He felt hands drawing him up into a sitting position and suddenly he was looking into the desperate face of Hermione.  
  
"Is it you?" she cried, and hugged him to her tightly without waiting for an answer, her voice high and screechy. "Where have you been?"   
  
Harry, who had closed his eyes as he relaxed into her familiar embrace, felt his eyes fly open at the question. What in the world could he say? I went to a different dimension? I talked with elves and tiny creatures called hobbits? I met the gods?  
  
I fell in love?  
  
He gripped the back of her robes from where she hugged him, kneeling. He realized belatedly that she was crying.  
  
"Hermione," he said hesitantly, his voice rough from his tears. She noticed immediately and drew back, searching his face with her intelligent eyes. "You've been crying," she said sharply. He glanced to the side. "Oh God, the Death Eaters didn't get you, did they?" She searched the rest of what she could see of his body with her eyes, noticing the scars covering his arm and not seeing when he shook his head.  
  
Without another word, she pulled him to a standing position. "At least you can walk," she said with obvious relief. There was still nervous tension in her voice as she walked him into the common room. "The rest of the dorm is at the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor game, but I don't go to the Quidditch games anymore." She didn't say why, but Harry understood.  
  
She led him up to the girl's dorms and made him sit on her bed. "Take off your shirt," she said crisply, and when he hesitated, she frowned. "I need to make sure you're not hurt. Please, Harry." Slowly, reluctantly, he drew his shirt over his head. He felt sickened and vunerable when Hermione put her hand over her mouth in horror.  
  
"Oh -- oh God --"  
  
Harry had thought that when he'd been brought back to life, the scars left from Mordor had disappeared. Evidently, whatever had made them go away did not affect him here.  
  
The red whip scars lay on his torso like strange worms, twisting around to his back, where they were more numerous and much deeper. A brand with a large letter he did not understand was on his hip, visible above his low pants. Various cuts and faint, scarring bite marks could be seen on his neck and shoulders, and Harry was desperately glad that the finger shaped bruises on his slim hips had faded.  
  
Hermione seemed speechless, and more tears welled in her brown eyes. "Oh God, Harry, the Death Eaters did capture you, didn't they? Those -- those bastards, I can't believe --" her voice was shaking with anger.  
  
Harry chose to ignore that for a moment. "Hermione," he said, choosing his words carefully, "how long have I been gone?"  
  
She looked at him curiously but didn't comment. "About five months," she replied.  
  
Harry struggled not to let his suprise show. Five months! He'd been in Middle-earth months -- maybe a year -- how could it be? Relief washed over him, and he barely noticed Hermione drawing closer.  
  
"Who did this to you, Harry?" she asked softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep, vicious weal on his back from Legolas's metal tipped whip, which slithered down below his pants. He drew a breath and all of a sudden realized that Legolas was gone from him forever.  
  
He drew in a sobbing breath and Hermione, mistaking it for remembrance of abuse, enfolded him in another hug and rocked him gently. "Oh, Harry," she murmured over and over as he cried into her robes.   
  
After he'd cried himself out, and he felt sleep taking him, Hermione shook him gently. "We have to get you to see Dumbledore," she said. "Can you stand?"  
  
"Thanks," he said hoarsely and stood, still clutching his wand in one hand and the orb in the other. She took a cloak from her bed and wrapped it around his shoulders as they walked out of the dorms, out of the common room, and into the hall.  
  
"Hermione! Ravenclaw lost, their Keeper is a complete sack of horse sh -- Harry?!"  
  
Harry shut his eyes as the voice swept through him like a cold breeze and left him shivering, feeling dazed.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
He opened his eyes in time to see a shock of red hair and a robe flying toward him before Ron grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, sending Harry's cloak fluttering to the floor. "It's you," Ron gasped unsteadily into Harry's hair and pulled Harry into a frantic kiss, his hands running over Harry's back and waist as if he was trying to memorize the feel of him. One of his hands ran over the brand embedded on Harry's right hip, and Ron's lips froze against his own. Harry inhaled a breath and buried his head in the crook of Ron's neck.  
  
"Hermione?" he heard Ron ask softly over Harry's shoulder. Whatever Hermione replied was lost to Harry in the blood pounding in his ears. Ron placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and gently pushed him a few steps away.  
  
He hated the way Ron's eyes followed his scars with mingled disgust and revulsion, tracing them down to the tops of his pants. He knew that Ron did not miss the bite marks on his shoulder. As much as he hated them, the scars were the only thing he had left of Legolas. A living memory. He stood swaying on his feet as if drunk, eyes half shut.  
  
"I don't think Harry knows what happened to him," Hermione was saying quietly to Ron. "He asked me how long he'd been gone and he won't tell me where he got the scars and the brand." She evidently noticed Harry listening in and put an arm around his shoulders. "Ron, we were just taking him to Dumbledore."  
  
Ron grinned brightly at Harry, obvious relief in his eyes. Harry smiled slightly back, heart breaking as he imagined Legolas's tentative smiles. He turned away so that Ron couldn't see the single tear that slid down his cheek as he mourned for something perfect that would never be quite so wonderful again.  
  
_________________________________  
  
A/N: Well, it's much longer that the last one. Hoped you like it -- sorry for all the angst. One more chapter and it's alllll over, and happiness will come, don't you worry. *grins* I had to put a plug in there about Draco, since I started writing this fic before I realized how much I despise Ron and love Draco.   
  
Well -- Review for me, so that I can cheer up and try to forget about Riku being stuck with millions of Heartless and all alone without Sora and -- *chokes* 


	24. Chrysalis NEW May 13!

Shadow of a Doubt  
  
Chapter Twenty-four: Chrysalis  
  
by Capella  
  
A/N: Erlack a pongoes, you guys....I can't believe I could ever finish this. :) It's the last chapter...*lip quivers*  
  
I'm feeling all sentimental. I didn't want this story to end at all, which is probably why I tried to drag this chapter out. However -- I already have an idea for the sequal, which will involve Draco and Katherine, who I haven't really covered yet. Should be cool. ^_^  
  
Sorry it took so freaking long -- I agonized for days about whether Legolas should be sent to Hogwarts or if Harry should somehow go to Middle-earth for weeks. This is what I came up with, so I hope you like it.   
  
MJ -- Uh, I didn't understand your review, exactly. I didn't exactly understand what you had a beef with -- I explained why everything happened, so if you don't get it, I suggest you reread it. And I write in third person limited -- which means I only tell what goes inside   
  
Can't think of anything else to say that wouldn't sound seriously corny at this point. So thanks a million for all your support/beautiful-review love, hope you stick around with me :)   
  
P.S. Twilight -- it was not an April Fool's Joke. Worked way too hard on that damn chapter for it to be a joke. Plus, that would be really, really mean. I'm not *that* mean, you know. ^_~  
  
And here it is, chapter Twenty-four of Shadow of a Doubt: Chrysalis.  
  
____________________________  
  
"...nothing's so sacred as honor and nothing's so loyal as love."  
  
- Headstone of Wyatt Earp   
  
"When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us."  
  
-Alexander Graham Bell  
  
____________________________  
  
"Harry, you really need to get your mind off it."  
  
Harry ignored the soft voice that interrupted his thoughts as easily as he did the wind blowing his hair across his face. He stared blankly at the Quidditch hoops from where he sat on the bleachers. The hand that touched his arm gently made him flinch a little.  
  
"I mean it, Harry. This isn't healthy. Look, Professor McGonagall asked you last week if you wanted to help teach DADA with Professor Lupin." Hermione didn't mention that it was obviously to try and keep Harry's mind occupied. "Those second years are complete idiots," she continued, voice light. "I bet you just being there would make them straighten right up."  
  
Is that really what you wanted to say? Harry wondered, but kept silent. He picked at the hem of his jeans, waiting for Hermione to say something to break the silence between them. She stared out onto the Quidditch field, quiet, obviously thinking.   
  
"It wasn't Death Eaters, was it." It was not a question. Harry turned and stared at her in amazement, but she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the bright green grass. "Ron said he's seen you sometimes, when you think he's asleep. He says the way that you look at those scars -- how you trace them, sometimes, glance at them with this...this strange look in your eyes --" She jumped when Harry interrupted her.  
  
"They mean nothing to me!" he said, more harsh than he intended. He made an effort to control his voice and continued. "He shouldn't have told you that." Hermione said nothing for a few minutes, but when she continued, her voice was steady.  
  
"Harry, I don't know what happened to you. I heard the story you told the professors and the Headmaster, but I don't believe it. And I don't think this is the time to pry the truth out of you. I'm going to go help Professor Lupin with DADA. Think about coming, Harry." Hermione stood up, placed a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, and left him to his thoughts.  
  
__________________________  
  
"I'm sure you have heard the other years talking about these particular creatures. There's a simple spell to counter -- oh, Harry! I'm glad you could make it. Class, Mr. Potter has decided to help with this lesson today."  
  
Hermione looked up from the notes she was copying on the board for the professor and saw Harry standing at the door, smiling awkwardly. She glanced around the entranced class and knew that Harry was aware of all the stares on his scar and the vivid red whip lash that crept above the neckline of his shirt. He looked at her for a moment, and she winked.   
  
"I'm sure Hermione told you of the lesson plan for today, Harry."  
  
Hermione winced. She had been so busy with her Arithmancy homework that she'd completely forgotten to tell Harry. But then again, with the lesson the second years were studying, she figured that Harry would have no problem.  
  
Lupin smiled warmly and turned back to the rest of his class. "Since we are studying boggarts today, you will all get a chance to see Harry's magnificent Expecto Patronum. Now, can anyone tell me the spell to defeat the boggart? Miss Thatcher?"  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry start violently at the name.   
  
"Riddikulus," the girl said in a high voice with an obvious Irish accent. She grinned, showing a rather large gap in between her front teeth, when Lupin nodded. Hermione wondered what had startled Harry so badly.  
  
"Five points to Ravenclaw. So," he said with a decidedly wolf-like smile, "who wants to go first? Hermione? Harry?"   
  
Harry, who had been so caught up in staring at the young Irish girl, jumped when Lupin mentioned his name. "I'll go, Professor," Harry said, and Hermione noticed a tired note to his voice. He pulled out his wand.  
  
Lupin walked to the doors. "Ready, Harry?"  
  
"Ready."  
  
Lupin pulled open the door and a cloud of dirty gray smoke came out of the closet. Hermione's eyes widened as she saw the figure that emerged from the soot. It was in no way what she had expected.  
  
"How wonderful to see you again, sweet."   
  
"Professor Lupin, I don't think that's a dementor..." Hermione whispered through her teeth, but as she was automatically reaching for her wand, the figure looked in her direction and she was somehow pinned by glittering black eyes. Full lips turned up in smirk, the figure turned its attention back on to Harry.   
  
Hermione saw Harry's wand drop of out his hand, and as she shifted her focus to his eyes, she saw that he was staring at the strange cloaked form in horror. She saw his lips move to whisper a spell, but no words came out, and it seemed all he could do was watch as the beautiful figure, hair raven-black and dark eyes glinting, advanced on him, tapping a whip against a black-clad thigh.  
  
"Legolas?" Harry choked out. Hermione frowned, trying to place the unfamiliar name, but suddenly she saw the pointed ears. Her gasp was lost in Legolas's reply.  
  
"Come on, Harry," the elf -- Legolas -- said as he prowled closer, smiling cruelly, eyes roving over Harry's terrified expression. Harry's chest was heaving as his breathing sped up. "Forgotten me already?"  
  
"No, I -- I don't --" Harry stuttered, face a strange mixture of anger, fear, and some wholly different emotion that looked almost like a twisted sort of love. Hermione blinked in confusion.   
  
"I see you will keep me with you always," Legolas said smoothly, reaching out a finger to trace the scar visible above Harry's shirt. As Legolas's hand hovered above Harry's skin, Hermione knew suddenly with a growing sense of terror that if that creature touched him, Harry would die.  
  
Even as Hermione opened her mouth to shout a warning, Harry snapped out of his daze and took a step back, and then another until his back hit the wall. "Bastard," he hissed. His eyes were a more liquid green than she'd ever seen them.   
  
Lupin finally broke the fog that seemed to be engulfing the room, and he jumped in front of Harry, diverting the boggart. "Riddikulus!"  
  
The last of Harry's strength seemed to disappear with the boggart. His legs gave out, and he slid slowly down the wall, knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around his legs. He rested his head on his knees.   
  
"Get out," he said.  
  
The second years looked uncertainly at Lupin, who was staring at Harry.   
  
Suddenly everything not bolted to the floor shattered, the desks flying apart in tiny splinters of wood, the windows exploding into glittering slivers that caught the light.  
  
"Please."   
  
Lupin silently herded the bewildered second years out of the classroom, all of whom seemed to be alternately trying to get a peek at Harry and whispering to their friends. Hermione walked up to the hunched over form and gently touched him on the shoulder. She heard him snarl right before he knocked her hand away and glared up at her, clutching a strange glass orb tightly in his hand. She hadn't even seen him get it out of his robes. His eyes were bloodshot and shiny with tears -- but the same emotion she'd seen moments earlier still shone there.   
  
Hermione stood up and slowly backed out of the room, keeping her eyes on his until the door was closed. But as soon as the door clicked into place, she heard a scream from the room that nearly shook the walls. Her hand hesitated over the doorknob for a moment before she lowered it to her side and sighed. She slowly trudged up to the Gryffindor common room, and as she walked down the hallway she couldn't help but wonder if she had only imagined the happiness in Harry's eyes.  
  
Then, as she neared the Fat Lady, she heard a voice call her name.   
  
___________________________  
  
Harry felt a shard of glass crunch under his foot as he stood, but the noise was lost to him. The glass ball swirling with smoke was what had grasped his attention and held it; he stood, stroking it lightly and feeling strangely warmed metal underneath his fingers. He walked towards the door, avoiding the larger pieces of desks and chairs and window panes.  
  
A curious sort of peace had come over him, along with a sense of determination. He'd made one mistake by leaving Middle-earth, but he would not make another by staying at Hogwarts.  
  
That, however, would obviously not be as simple as it sounded.  
  
The only link that remained to Middle-earth was the glass ball that Manwe had given him. It was strange that it had not broken as the other one had that had taken him to Middle-earth in the first place.   
  
Suddenly, Harry stopped in his tracks.   
  
I believe the Valar have correspondence with someone in your world.   
  
Harry started running towards Gryffindor Tower.  
  
_____________________________  
  
"Hermione! Hermione, wait!"  
  
She spun around and watched with a suprise as Harry sprinted up the stairs to her, panting and out of breath, as Hermione was half in, half out of the portrait hole. "I have to talk to you, Hermione. Please. It's about -- it's about Legolas. "  
  
Still a little suprised, she nodded, taking in Harry's flushed appearance but choosing not to comment on it. She stepped in the rest of the way, motioning Harry to follow her, and headed over to the chairs by the fireplace. She sat. "Start from the beginning."  
  
Harry took a deep breath and did.  
  
Hermione listened with barely controlled amazement as Harry unfurled his incredible story. It was filled with stuttering halts and places where Harry stopped, unsure of himself. Time after time Hermione asked questions and made him go back to fill in some place in his story that he'd forgotten. For some reason, Gandalf and Saruman caught her attention especially. She was fascinated with the idea of an entity living inside of Harry and possessing him.  
  
She frowned. He still hadn't explained the scars.  
  
She had lost the thread of his tale while she thought, and she caught it again as he talked about following Legolas to Mordor. Suddenly something made her sit up.  
  
"What?" she asked excitedly.  
  
Harry paused. "I just said that I saw this gigantic spider who someone had stabbed," he said, staring at her. "Why?"  
  
Her mind was whirling with possibilities. "Think, Harry. Where else have we seen a giant spider?"  
  
"I don't kn -- you can't be thinking of Aragog?"  
  
"Don't you remember what Aragog told you and Ron about where he had come from? From far away, in the pocket of a traveler! Don't you see?"  
  
Harry stared at her in disbelief and then dawning realization. "Manwe told me that someone in this world had correspondence with the gods of that world," he said slowly. "But -- could Aragog really be --"  
  
"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed. "We have to go talk to him!" She thought she saw relief in Harry's eyes and remembered his tale. "But first -- continue."  
  
"But I -- " he started, and then his shoulders slumped in defeat. He sighed. "After I saw this spider, I heard voices, Orc voices, coming down the path. I hid and attacked them, but one of them cut me -- right here," he said, and pointed at a large scar running down his calf. "I passed out, and when I woke up, I was in a cell. An Orc came to get me, to bring me to Sauron. I told you about him already." Hermione nodded, and she saw his eyes get a little liquid with tears, a little distant with remembered, painful memories. "I was brought before him. He said he had a -- a present for me...Legolas. He'd been...he'd been turned." He stopped suddenly and bowed his head, looking at his hands.  
  
"He raped you, didn't he?" Hermione said quietly.  
  
Harry's head came up; his eyes got shielded and dead. It was obviously an avenue of conversation he had not meant to delve into. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it, fists clench to hide his obvious shaking. "It wasn't him," he said at last, softly.   
  
Hermione remained silent, waiting for him to speak.   
  
"It was the reason I left," he said after a few moments, almost inaudibly. "I hated him, but I hated that even though I loved him, I couldn't stand him touching me." Hermione reached out and took his hand, but she could tell he didn't register the contact. "Every time he came near me, all I could see was -- was him, standing above me with a whip, telling me it was okay to scream." His grip on her hand was suddenly tight.  
  
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she said and smiled at him gently. He gave her a grateful smile in return. "Go on. I want to know how you got out of Mordor." She listened as he continued, voice soft, story full of halting pauses. Then he stopped completely.  
  
"I don't know quite how to put the next part," he said with a rueful smile. "So I'll just put it blunt for you. I did some magic on this lieutenant, he got really angry and cut my throat -- right here," he said, drawing a line across his neck. "And, well, I -- died."  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped. "You're kidding," she said after a moment.  
  
Harry shook his head. "No," he said. "Everything just went black, sort of. I don't remember anything and then suddenly, I was sitting up on this stone bier in the city of the gods."   
  
Hermione tried to contain her incredulity until Harry finished with his return to Hogwarts. After he was done, he sat there silently, his hands folded together, staring through her with a faraway look in his eyes. "I want to go back," he confided softly. "I want to go back to him so badly. I dream about going back to Middle-earth and seeing him again, staying there with him. But then, I start to wonder -- if I found some way back, what if nothing changed and I still couldn't be near him? And then, if I stayed and everything went back to the way it was, what would happen when I died? He's immortal, Hermione, and I don't want him to die for me. I -- I dream about that, sometimes, too." His voice became tired and wistful. "So I don't sleep."  
  
For the life of her, Hermione could not find the words to say. "Oh, Harry --"  
  
He stood abruptly, cutting her off. "C'mon," he said, and smiled down at her. "Weren't you all excited about going to talk to Aragog?"  
  
"I suppose I was," she whispered, and stood. She cleared her throat and offered him a smile in return. "We don't really need to actually go talk to Aragog. We just need to find out who Hagrid got Aragog's egg from. Let's go."  
  
Without another word, Hermione walked towards the portrait hole, hearing Harry's footsteps hurry behind her to catch up. Her thoughts were whirling, and with a feeling of guilt she realized that she was thinking about lying to Harry to keep him at Hogwarts.   
  
They walked in silence out of the school and out to Hagrid's hut. The knock on the door was startlingly loud and shattered the awkward silence between the two. The door swung open.  
  
"Harry!" Hagrid said with obvious suprise. "Hermione! Aren't you two supposed to be at yer classes?"  
  
"We just have a quick question, Hagrid, and then we have to leave," Harry said. "Can you tell me who you got Aragog's egg from?"  
  
Hagrid's face broke into a thoughtful smile. "Well, ya know, I was never really sure. Someone left it in my dorm room my firs' year and I raised it since then -- but ya know, I've always thought it was Dumbledore. That's how 'e knew it wasn't me who set that monster loose. Harry? Hermione? Where're you going?"  
  
But they were already halfway back to the castle.  
  
________________________  
  
"I should have known it!" Hermione said, panting as she tried to keep up with Harry. He cast her an amused glance over his shoulder.   
  
"How could you have?" he asked, and was rewarded with a ferocious glare. Despite the nervous churning of his stomach, he smiled into the wind -- some things, it seemed, would never change. He ran out of the courtyard and into the hall leading to Dumbledore's office, Hermione jogging close behind him and oblivious to the stares of the other students.  
  
"Harry! Harry, wait!"  
  
The voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"Harry! What in the hell are you two doing?" Ron walked up to them, still in full Beater gear and holding his broomstick, red hair a mess from the wind. "Have you two gone completely mad?" he asked, a little out of breath. Harry's heart clenched in misery as he saw the soft look Ron gave him.  
  
"No, we haven't, exactly," Hermione said, stalling, as she threw Ron a nervous glance. Ron paid her no attention, walking over to Harry and giving him a gentle kiss. Closing his eyes and ignoring the leather of Quidditch gloves as Ron cupped his cheek, it was easy to imagine someone else's lips on his own. He heard Hermione clear her throat. Harry flushed and moved away, trying to ignore Ron's hand resting on the small of his back.  
  
"Yes, well, we were just going to see Dumbledore about -- about -- the classes I'm going to teach next year," Hermione stuttered, a faint blush on her cheeks. "Since, you know, I'm going to be helping out as a teacher."  
  
Ron gave her a grin. "I know, Hermione. Well, Quidditch practice just ended and I've got nothing to do. Maybe I'll just come along with you." He missed the panicked expression that came over Harry's face. He mouthed 'no' to Hermione over Ron's shoulder.  
  
"I don't know, Ron, Dumbledore didn't exactly say I could invite anyone else along."  
  
Ron laughed. "Oh, come off it, Hermione. He knows me well enough. Besides, it can't be that top-secret. See? I'm a Head Boy, I even know the password." He flashed his badge proudly.   
  
Harry sighed in defeat. "The statue's right there, Ron. We might as well get this over with." Please, Dumbledore, be discreet, he prayed silently as they walked up to the statue.  
  
"Sherbet Lemon!"   
  
Harry blinked. "Wasn't that the password from second year?" he wondered out loud. Ron shrugged.  
  
"Don't ask me. I've never been able to figure him out. Poncy old git won't even give the Head Boy his own dorm room."  
  
Harry forced out a small laugh as they climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office, acutely aware of Ron's presence behind him. He knocked on the door cautiously.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"It's Harry, sir."  
  
The door suddenly swung open, and Dumbledore smiled at them from his desk.  
  
"I was hoping you would show up soon, Harry. I have a visitor for you." There was a strange twinkle in his eyes.   
  
"Hello, Harry."  
  
Harry's heart stopped in his chest. He turned slowly around, feeling as though he was trapped in some sort of surreal dream, and faced the chair sitting behind him, that he hadn't even noticed in his rush to speak.  
  
A pair of fathomless blue eyes stared back at him calmly.  
  
"Legolas," he whispered, and dimly realized that his entire body was trembling. He watched through a strange haze as Legolas's lips moved as if to speak, and stopped. Harry wondered why, but then felt a possessive hand grasp his own.  
  
"Who is this, Harry?" Ron asked slowly. Harry didn't answer and resisted the urge to pull his hand out of Ron's grip. Legolas's eyes never wavered from his face. There was a long moment of silence.  
  
Suddenly Legolas smiled, and held out his hand. "Where are my manners?" he said, finally taking his unnerving blue gaze off of Harry. "I am Legolas, son of --" His lips twisted slightly. "I am Legolas Greenleaf," he finished smoothly. "Who are you, may I ask?"  
  
Cautiously, Ron took Legolas's hand and shook it, relaxing a bit. "I'm Ron Weasley," he said. And then, letting go of Legolas's hand, added, "Harry's fiance." When this piece of news produced no visible effect in Legolas's cool demeanor, Ron smiled and relaxed fully. "How do you two know each other?"  
  
For a moment there was a flash of some strange emotion as Legolas looked briefly at Harry before glancing back to Ron. "We became acquainted during his -- imprisonment."  
  
Ron's hand suddenly tightened on Harry's own. "You don't mean to say that -- I mean, you did not cause --" Ron broke off suddenly.  
  
Legolas's eyes became guarded and cold. "Explain to me what you mean," he said tightly.   
  
"Forget it," Ron said hastily, shaking his head. "Forget it."  
  
There was an awkward silence, in which Harry was only aware of the beating of his own heart and the steady gaze of Legolas as Harry kept his eyes on the floor. He finally raised them and was pinned immediately by the emotions churning in Legolas's stare. Finally Legolas broke the uneasy quiet. Without taking his eyes off of Harry's own, he spoke.  
  
"I believe you and I have a problem, Ron Weasley."  
  
"Excuse me?" Ron said uncertainly.  
  
Legolas sighed, and then offered a slight smile which looked dangerously close to a grimace. "If I am not mistaken, we are both in love with the same man."  
  
Ron's grip on Harry's hand became suddenly so bruisingly tight that Harry's couldn't help a tiny gasp. Ron ignored him in favor of both his rising temper and Legolas, who was looking at him coolly.  
  
"You must be mistaken," he ground out, glaring at Legolas all the while and clutching Harry's hand in his own as if he wanted to crush it. Legolas met Ron's glare calmly.   
  
"From your reaction I assume that Harry has not told you about the time he spent away from you."  
  
"No, he did not." Ron finally let go of Harry's hand in favor of clenching his own into a fist by his side. In the face of Ron's anger and obvious betrayal, Harry felt a wave of guilt. A tear slipped down his cheek.  
  
Legolas suddenly seemed to lose a bit of his confidence as he looked into Harry's tear-filled eyes. His suddenly lowered his own to the floor and took a deep breath. "Perhaps I should leave you two alone," he said softly.   
  
Ron snarled at him, slipping a possessive arm around Harry's waist. "Perhaps so," he growled. Keeping his eyes glued to Legolas's, he placed a lingering kiss on the side of Harry's neck and then stared defiantly back at Legolas. Harry clenched his teeth as Legolas looked away.   
  
"I'll wait outside," he murmured, walking out of the office without making a sound. Dumbledore and Hermione both cast worried looks at Ron and Harry, and filed out of the doors after Legolas.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Finally Ron spoke, pulling away from Harry only to put both hands on Harry's shoulders, gripping them tightly. "Tell me what happened, Harry," he said in a tightly controlled voice. "Tell me the truth. It's -- it's the least I deserve, isn't it?"  
  
So Harry did.  
  
He omitted nothing -- he told everything, down to the last detail. Some of it was painful to tell, some of it he almost couldn't choke out, but he managed. And the entire time, Ron stood there with a blank expression on his face. It never wavered.   
  
Harry finished, and braced himself for the flood of anger. It never came.  
  
"Suppose you'd best get on with it then, Harry," Ron said, expressionless. When Harry looked at him askance, he continued. "It's obvious that you want to leave. So why are you even bothering to tell me at all?"  
  
"Ron, I'm sorry --"  
  
"Sorry?" Ron said softly. "Sorry." Harry wondered why the first sorry seemed a repeat of what Harry had said -- the last, an apology. Then suddenly he was sprawled on the floor, jaw aching fiercely and his head ringing. He lifted himself up onto his elbows from where he lay on his back, staring up at Ron incredulously. Ron glared back down at him, eyes an angry liquid blue. His shaking wand was pointed at Harry's face.  
  
"Sorry!" Ron was taking huge breaths now, and as he breathed out, the air going through his clenched teeth made a curious sort of hissing noise. "You -- you should be sorry, God damn it!"  
  
"Ron --" He honestly could not think of the words to say. All the eloquent speeches he had prepared had flown from his mind the instant Ron's fist had connected with his jaw and he had seen Ron's eyes staring down at him angrily.   
  
"Weren't we happy, you bastard?" Ron yelled, and Harry looked nervously to the door. "Weren't we?" He grabbed the front of Harry's shirt in one hand, hauled him to his feet, and suddenly Harry found himself being kissed furiously. It was not a gentle kiss, Ron's teeth clacking up against his and Harry's lip getting split sometime during the exchange. He felt blood trickling down his chin. His cheek felt hot from where it was beginning to swell.  
  
Finally Ron let him go and shoved him violently backwards. Harry hit a table and braced himself there, inexplicably saddened by the hate and betrayal on Ron's face.   
  
"Get out of here," Ron snarled, his wand pointing again towards Harry and his hand noticably trembling. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the dark look Ron cast him, backed out of the room carefully, keeping his eyes on Ron's the whole time. Finally the door slammed shut behind him and he breathed a sigh of both relief and regret.  
  
"Harry! Harry, what happened?" He could hear Hermione's footsteps hurrying up to him and moments later he felt a tentative touch on his shoulder. When he turned around, Hermione stared at him with huge, disbelieving eyes. She laid a gentle hand on his swollen cheek.  
  
"He was a little angry," Harry said wryly. She gave him a look.  
  
"I figured as much," she retorted, and took her hand off his face, grabbing his hand instead. "You know Ron when he gets upset -- the best thing we can do is just let him cool off, and then you can try to talk to him again. What did you tell him?"  
  
"The truth, Hermione." Harry suddenly felt very tired. "Nothing but the truth."  
  
She winced but didn't comment. "Your visitor is still here," she said, unnecessarily. She never said things without a reason; it was a mark of how much distress she was in. "I'm sure he's anxious to see you. He's outside in the courtyard. Why don't you go talk to him?"  
  
"Hermione -- what would you think if I told you that I was planning on leaving for good?"  
  
He could tell that he'd caught her off guard.   
  
"Well -- I would say, I suppose, that you should do what makes you happy," she admitted, haltingly, pulling up the words as if they were painful to her. "And if your happiness doesn't lie with Ron and I -- well, I expect that's if that is truly the way your heart feels, I don't have a right to try and change that." She gave him a sad smile. "I will miss you though, Harry, and no matter what Ron says, so will he."  
  
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said quietly, for a moment overcome by her unassuming friendship. "Will you -- will you say goodbye to Sirius and Draco for me?"  
  
She managed another smile, this one not so grieving. "I suppose I can do it for you, even if it means I have to talk to the prat. You know I never liked him, even if you do. And I'm sure Snuffles will understand perfectly."  
  
"I know," he said, heart a little lighter. "And -- about Ron --"  
  
"I'll explain things to him. I know you don't want to talk with him, but...I think perhaps a letter would be in order. And, if you could manage it someday, a visit or two." She winked.  
  
"God, I'm going to miss you, Hermione," he breathed, and enfolded her in a bone-crushing hug. She patted his back reassuringly.   
  
"I know," she said, and he could hear the amusement in her voice.   
  
Suddenly, Harry felt what seemed to be a vice with hooks grab onto his shoulder. Hermione laughed in delight.   
  
"Hedwig," Harry murmured and stroked one of her feathers. "I'm glad you didn't let me forget you." She nipped his finger contentedly in response.  
  
"Don't you want any of your school stuff?" Hermione asked hesitantly. Harry thought about it for a moment before replying.  
  
"A few things -- my parent's photo album, my broomstick, stuff like that. Will you go tell Legolas I'll meet him in the courtyard in a few minutes, and that I have some important things to tell him?"  
  
"Of course, Harry," Hermione said, and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. "Don't you dare forget me."  
  
Harry smiled. "I won't," he said. "You can count on it."  
  
_______________________  
  
Photo album....broomstick...servicing kit...old Quidditch robes...Griffyndor scarf...a few books...  
  
"I see thou hast made up thy mind, Harry," said a somehow familiar two-tone voice that seemed to echo about the room.  
  
Harry whirled around and stared, disbelieving, at the speaker, clutching Advanced Magical Medicine in his hand.  
  
"You cannot be suprised. I am sure that you knew it was I." Dumbledore reverted back to his raspy, gentle speech and Harry gave a little sigh of relief.  
  
"I suppose I did know it was you," Harry said slowly, wondering all the while why the man before him was wearing strange robes of sea-blue.. "Professor Dumbledore."  
  
Dumbledore smiled gently. "You may call me Alatar, for that is my true name. But -- you have questions for me, do you not?"  
  
Harry nodded a little warily. "I do," he said. "Just one. I guess -- could you answer for me, sir, why I was sent to Middle-earth in the first place?"   
  
To his suprise, Dumbledore sighed a little. "I can only speculate, Harry, about why you were given that orb. My first instinct is to say that it was indeed meant for me, since my powers have diminished to such an extent that I can no longer visit my brothers in Middle-earth. However, I do not know why it would be in your quarters. I'm afraid that will have to remain a mystery for now, my boy."  
  
Suddenly, a part of what Dumbledore had just said struck Harry like a blow. "You -- you can't send me or Legolas back to Middle-earth?" he gasped out. To his suprise, Dumbledore smiled.   
  
"I think you will be able to find your way back, Harry," he said, and ruffled Harry's hair gently. "And now, my boy, I think you have someone waiting for you."  
  
Harry nodded unsteadily and dropped his book into the suitcase on his bed. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled down at him.  
  
I too shall watch over thy fate...how thou struggles to live, and how thou faces death.  
  
Harry blinked at the ringing voice that suddenly echoed through his head. He stared at the back of Dumbledore's blue cloak as the old wizard walked out of his room. "Alatar?" he whispered, but Dumbledore didn't turn around.  
  
Harry blinked at the ringing voice that suddenly echoed through his head. He stared at the back of Dumbledore's blue cloak as the old wizard walked out of his room. "Alatar?" he whispered, but Dumbledore didn't turn around. Harry stayed, frozen in place, until the door shut quietly. Then his lips quirked up in a little smile, and he shook his head, turning around to grab Quidditch Through the Ages and shove it in his suitcase. ___________________________  
  
The clap of his shoes on the stone floor sounded somehow final. Hedwig hooted softly from his shoulder and nipped his ear gently, ignoring Harry's distracted attempts to make her quit. His mind, at the moment, was on other things; namely, the gleam of long blonde hair and the pale beauty of Legolas, staring out at the lake absently. Harry stood off to one side in a doorway of the castle and watched Legolas's eyes widen a bit when he saw a tentacle emerge out of the water with a splash.  
  
"It's the squid," Harry said quietly, looking out at the lake, seeing out of the corner of his eye when Legolas glanced his way. "It likes to watch our Quidditch matches sometimes. I never could figure out how it knew when all of the Slytherin and Gryffindor matches were."  
  
Legolas didn't ask what Harry was going on about. Harry saw him nod his head and take a deep breath.   
  
"Look, Legolas --"  
  
"Harry, I --"  
  
Harry smiled a little. "You first," he said. He saw Legolas smile tightly in return. When the elf spoke he sounded more like the composed, two thousand year old being that Harry had met his first night in Middle-earth than the slightly unraveled Legolas of late.  
  
"Harry, I know that you and -- Ron, is it? -- are engaged. I just want to say that I have no business interfering with that --"  
  
"Don't you?" Harry interrupted, finally turning to face Legolas fully. Despite Legolas's air of calm, Harry saw a sort of wildness, a sort of desperation, about him that Harry had never seen before. There were dark circles under his eyes that hinted at too little hours of sleep.   
  
Legolas's blue eyes flickered before he started again. "No, I don't," he said firmly. "From what you've told me, he's known you for years -- loved you for years -- and I have not. I have -- I have no right to come between you two."  
  
Harry smiled gently up at Legolas and lifted up a hand, tracing the fullness of Legolas's bottom lip with his thumb. He felt Legolas's breath hitch slightly. "You don't have to worry about that," Harry said, and saw Legolas's eyes brighten. "We -- ah -- had a bit of an argument. So I thought -- that is, if you still want me --"  
  
All of a sudden he felt two hands grab his shoulders to pull him forward, and a pair of soft lips pressed to his own hungrily, taking the breath from his lungs and the strength from his legs. The world stopped, and for a blissful moment he was whole.  
  
When they pulled away for breath, finally, Harry laughed a little. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say, if you still want me to go to Middle-earth with you…?"  
  
"Of course I want you to," Legolas murmured, a little wistfully, and he put his hand into his pocket. "However, I think getting there might be the problem." When he withdrew his hand, Harry saw the glitter of glass. "The orb Manwe gave to me shattered as soon as I arrived here." He dropped his hand to his side, and the glass tinkled to the ground.  
  
Harry looked at him and winked. "Lucky for me that mine was a little better made." He dug into his bag, felt his hand close over cool glass, and tossed it to Legolas. Legolas automatically brought up his hands and caught it, then stared at it with some strange emotion. When he looked back up at Harry his eyes shone.  
  
"Harry -- this would be wonderful -- but first I need to know if you can ever forgive me for what I did…"  
  
"It fades from my memory even now," Harry whispered, and leaned in to place another soft kiss on Legolas's lips. Legolas smiled down in pure elation at him.   
  
"Then let's not waste any more time."  
  
His hand grasped Harry's own, his other hand folding over Harry's holding the glass orb. "I love you," Legolas whispered, his lips touched Harry's gently and, in a flash of bright white light, they were together, worlds away. __________________________  
  
A/N: Well folks. That's it! I know it leaves off a bit abruptly, but that's because the sequel is already in planning. It should come out about August or so. Well, my lovelies, this is Capella, signing out. Thanks for all your support and reviews and love! 


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